


Lost Boys

by MistressScimitar



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Self-Acceptance, Self-Discovery, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2020-10-13 08:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 70,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressScimitar/pseuds/MistressScimitar
Summary: Minho is  . . .To Jisung, Minho is more than a missing piece of him.Minho is his soul.





	1. Prologue

Minho is . . .

Minho is a friend.

Minho is that shy smile that tints your cheeks pink when you make eye contact and swiftly look away, hoping that no one noticed your blush.

Minho is contagious giggles that carry across a room and make you crack an easy smile as you laugh too.

Minho is that unwavering confidence that pushes you out of your comfort zone and makes you act.

Minho is an arm over your shoulder, a simple touch that makes you feel not so alone.

Minho is that one person who you click with on a whole other level.

Minho is midnight runs to the corner store when you feel you’ll go crazy, so open and honest in the dead of night.

Minho is a push and pull of teasing and flirting that you hope no one looks into, but they are blind to the caress that lingers and the way your heart races with every second it does.

Minho is suggestive words laced with alcohol; cherry lips curled into a smirk – a dare – with eyes that give way to anxiety within.

Minho is trembling fingers that trace your cheek, breath shallow and nerves on fire, hyperaware; of the sound of the party outside, the cold wall at your back and the warmth radiating off the man pinning you to it.

Minho is apprehension and uncertainty, but you are ready to swan dive into the unknown.

Minho is the stolen touches that follow, a series of firsts that exhilarate you in a way nothing else has.

Minho is a back pressed against a bathroom door, frantic hands clawing and tugging, lips hungry and body craving release.

Minho is hushed voices at 2 am, when everyone else is asleep and you can voice your frustrations out, letting your heart bleed itself dry without peering eyes and ears.

Minho is rough sex in the back of the car; the kind that fogs up windows and rocks the vehicle in an obnoxious way; the kind that leaves you sweaty and breathless and aching.

Minho is that striking panic that holds you in place as you watch the one you love, unable – or too cowardly – to do anything to stop it.

Minho is the heartache that drives you wild and makes you scream yourself hoarse as you lay in the carnage of your outburst, with the music still blaring to drown out the sound of your sobs.

Minho is the forehead against yours, a shared breath while you pretend that it’s just you two alone in the world.

To Jisung, Minho is more than a missing piece of him.

Minho is his soul.

(\\__/)

(=’.’=)

(“)_(“)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first time posting on AO3 so this may be messy while I'm figuring everything out.
> 
> This is one long collection of drabbles following the same jumpy timeline. I originally planned to post this as a one-shot but after reaching over 20k words I decided to split my drabbles by chapter purely so I could proofread without going insane.
> 
> Basically just Minsung with the occasional appearance of other skz members. Really cheesy so read on at your own risk.
> 
> Slow burn as the steamy stuff doesn't come in until after 20k/Chapter 10ish.
> 
> Don't really know what else to say. Chapter length will vary a lot. Don't have a set posting schedule, just when I can find the time to edit. I'm a procrastinating perfectionist so I always struggle to post once I'm done because there is always something else I can add.
> 
> So yeah, good luck reading this mess ^-^


	2. Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is a friend.

Minho was no one when he and Jisung first met. They were both good friends with Chan, so they were bound to cross paths at some point. Polite introductions were exchanged but there was no great spark, or fireworks or whatever it was that fairy tales filled your mind with as a kid.

There was no magical moment where it clicked just how much they’d grow to lean on each other. Minho was just another – albeit pretty – face that Jisung barely considered as they bowed to each other before he dragged Chan away.

Besides, at that point Jisung still had his head so far up his own ass it was a surprise he even remembered Minho’s name when they next met.

This happened barely a week after their first introduction due to the coincidence that Minho ended up rooming with Changbin, the only other person who Jisung deemed worthy of his time.

He found this out one night after repeatedly beating on Changbin’s door.

The elder wasn’t answering texts and was late to another recording session and Jisung was going to be pissed if they lost their spot. It would be another two weeks until they had access to the equipment in this particular studio as bookings went a month in advance. Hence, the late hour recording as it was the only time that they were all free to book it.

Chan was already waiting in the studio and Jisung so kindly offered to chase down the other composer as he made his way back onto campus that night.

Fist raised to knock again he was taken aback when it was not Changbin who opened the door. Instead, he was met with a very disgruntled looking Minho.

It took Jisung a second to recognise him. His hair was ruffled, face a little puffy and eyes squinting at the harsh hallway light. Shirtless as well, Jisung noted in surprise as his eyes couldn’t help but trail down the bare skin. He was certainly not the spitting image of the pretty boy with the wavy hair and sharp features from the other day, but Jisung was sure it was the guy Chan introduced to him last week.

Minho greeted Jisung without formality, grumbling something about stupid woodland creatures need to learn some respect, and that first years were always so arrogant. He was staring Jisung down as he rubbed sleep from his puffy eyes.

The shock worn off, Jisung just stared back intimidatingly before Changbin came rushing out the door and down the hall, apologies rushing off his lips about over-sleeping or some shit that Jisung couldn’t care less about.

So Jisung turned on his heel and followed his shorter friend, ignoring Minho and the eyes he could still feel piercing his back.

It’s not that he was trying to be a rude person, it’s just Jisung didn’t care much for the generic university life. He didn’t care for the clubs and parties and hook-ups. Hell, he wasn’t even that great at the study aspect of it. All he cared about was the practical component where he could create music to his heart’s content. So, he couldn’t help the way he turned his head up at the other students. He didn’t think it was selfish to focus his energy on those he truly cared about and no one else.

Okay, so maybe it also had to do with the fact Jisung _knew_ he was good despite being younger than a lot of people in his year. But when you’re that good why even bother with those not on your level? And Minho was an unknown variable and Jisung didn’t have the time for that.

Safe to say, it took Minho a while to get past that prickly exterior.

But he’s weird.

Jisung said this blatantly to his face one day when they happened to cross paths while he was with Chan again and they started up a conversation. Minho simply shrugged in response, it wasn’t the first time he had heard that. And that simple nonchalance about what other people thought had Jisung taking a moment to peer outside the walls he had built up that year and for a second he really considered who Minho was.

Jisung found out that Minho was a couple of years older than him, but only in the year above. He was smart, according to Chan. Jisung was sceptical in believing it as he’d only seen awkward and giggly Minho so far.

He did cock his head in surprise when Changbin told him Minho’s a dance major, with an interest in hip hop.

Suddenly Jisung was even more interested because the soft boy with long eyelashes, gentle smile and delicate timbre to his voice, did not seem like a hip-hop dancer. Then again, he thought back to that second meeting when Minho greeted him at the door, and he may have not had a six-pack, but was certainly fit, fit enough to maybe be a dancer.

This curiosity got the better of Jisung and he started joining the group for lunch because Minho was there almost every day too. Hell, he even started talking with Hyunjin again. It’s not like he could remember what they ever started arguing about in the first place. Plus, it’d be less awkward in their sharehouse if they stopped pretending the other didn’t exist.

Jisung didn’t realise it himself, but the others noticed the gradual change in him as his wall of prejudice he’d built up slowly faded and he started acting like the foolish boy Chan first befriended. The boy he was before getting into this college took that spirit from him.

Chan was genuinely happy when he saw Jisung laugh wholeheartedly for the first time in such a long time, full-body shakes as he clapped his hands and slapped his legs at some comment Minho made about Changbin.

He thought to himself that maybe he should’ve introduced Minho and Jisung sooner, but he was not sure what it was about the dancer that made Jisung come out of his shell, if it was even because of Minho. He certainly couldn’t have predicted that his two most amusingly conceited friends would get along and not clash heads.

He also thought that he may have made a horrible discovery because that pairing was bound to cause trouble. But the smile on Jisung’s face was authentic again. He was grateful for whatever switch turned back over in the younger’s mind to help him accept a friend.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo,  
The first couple of chapters are bleh while I get things going. Not super happy with them but they'll do.  
I'm surprised you made it this far


	3. Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is that shy smile that tints your cheeks pink when you make eye contact and swiftly look away, hoping that no one noticed your blush.

Over the next few months Jisung found himself growing closer with Minho. So much so that he found himself spending more time with Minho than he ever did with Chan and Changbin because they just seemed to click. Neither knew why, they just seemed to understand each other in a way that words couldn’t quite explain. Even when they were not hanging out together Jisung found Minho on his mind; thinking about the gossip he must tell him next meet up, thinking about what Minho’s opinions would be on his latest lyrics and whether Minho did well on his last vocal assessment.

It’s was the middle of the year and exams were upon them, but Jisung was still the best he’s felt since he started at campus this year.

Since branching out and enjoying the campus life along with Chan, Woojin, Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin, he had also started talking to people in his classes too, and he found out that they were decent people. Even some of the ones whose parents paid their way in.

He still cherished time spent with his group the most. He found real pride in his chest when they got the chance to see the accomplishments of the others. Last week Chan, Changbin and him completed a new track and he thought unabashedly it was the best one they’d ever produced. Minho and Hyunjin agreed and took it upon themselves to make up a dance to it just for fun. In the end they put on a little performance for the group.

Jisung was still thinking about the dance at lunch the next day. He’d seen Minho dance before and was impressed. Minho had a knack for dancing. He was confident in the way his body moved and his legs were powerful as he nailed each step. Where Hyunjin was showy power as he outdid himself with each step, Minho was a subtle and seductive groove as he flowed effortlessly from one step to the next.

It was memorising.

Especially seeing someone dance to one of his own songs. He couldn’t help but smile the whole performance and well afterwards as he complimented to two dancers.

He was still smiling at the memory as he looked at Minho at lunch the next day. He remembered the way the elder’s eyes had burned into him as he danced along to his rap. One move where Minho rolled his body and popped his leg replayed in Jisung’s head, a move which made him realise just how strong Minho’s thighs were.

When this thought burning at the front of his mind was finally shook free, he realised he was staring so intently at Minho that the elder’s eyes turned to him and flickered with surprise. Jisung swung his head away quickly, embarrassment washing over him and a blush tinting his cheeks.

Minho thought it was cute.

🐿️


	4. Laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is contagious giggles that carry across a room and make you crack an easy smile as you laugh too.

“I found it!”

Changbin exclaimed one morning, hurriedly running into the studio with the dumbest grin on his face. He startled the two who were waiting on his arrival, both of which looked over in confusion at their shortest friend.

Changbin’s family was well off. To put it lightly.

But he tried his hardest to be his own person away from his family’s wealth. He often felt guilty over how easy he had it, especially watching Jisung struggle through his dead-end job to put up rent. That’s why he was staying in the cheap, shitty dorm accommodation. He refused to use his parent’s money to get himself a place of his own.

Besides, the rooms weren’t that bad. He rather enjoyed Minho as a roommate, although he would never admit it to him. Despite the elder constantly teasing Changbin, they had their boundaries and knew when the other needed their space but were also quick to comfort the other if needed, even if Minho was a bit awkward at that part.

Plus, Minho was an odd breath of fresh air compared to Changbin’s family’s well-meaning but rigid ways, the dancer’s strange ideals always taking him by surprise but amusing him to no end.

Minho was the picture of carefree, even more so than the characteristically laidback Changbin. This confused him and the others immensely as they knew Minho constantly worked long hours to pay his dues too, on top of exhausting dance classes. Sure, the musicians were up at ungodly hours to match studio availability, but sitting in a room fretting over chord progressions caused a different type of exhaustion to the way he sometimes saw Minho enter their shared room, kicking off his shoes before faceplanting his bed with a moan of aching muscles.

The most confusing thing about this though, was that no one actually knew where it was Minho worked. This wasn’t despite them trying. Minho was always strangely apprehensive about sharing that.

Chan and Woojin always just assumed he worked at something like McDonald's which the arrogant dancer would state he was above, but hey, the others didn’t judge. A job was a job, and someone had to be there to serve them burgers at 11 pm when they were racing to the studio. Hyunjin had his money on something higher, he thought for sure Minho was playing up the broke college student thing but was actually rich with his hands in a business or something. Han had bet on something like a stripper, making the others laugh and cringe at the thought.

Changbin didn’t think it was any of these though. He had the most insight being his roommate, but he could still never puzzle it out. Minho made it an effort to never wear clothing with the name of his workplace, despite dressing in neat, form-fitting black slacks and always doing his hair nice. His guess was some sort of upper-class bar. No one agreed with him, but Changbin was sure their soulless friend could talk up anyone with a wink while handing out drinks.

The mystery was solved one day when Changbin went out with his family for a belated birthday dinner. After taking the time to travel all this way, they made reservations at what Changbin assumed was the fanciest place in town. It was certainly nowhere him or his friends would ever pick just judging from the exterior. It even had a red carpet at the entrance. But Changbin played grateful son and actually did enjoy his dinner, especially when he recognised a mop of wavy brown hair zipping back and forth between tables.

He did a double-take, but sure enough. There was Minho.

It all made sense then. Minho was dressed in a classy chambray button-up with the name of the restaurant and his own name embraided over the pocket in silver thread. It was definitely the sort of shirt that needed dry cleaning and based off the suit of the maître d' he had no doubt it was covered by the business.

It took all his strength to not burst into laughter while watching Minho put on the most blindingly saccharine – but to Changbin obviously fake – smile as he charmed a table of middle-aged women.

Oh boy, Changbin was going to use this to finally get some revenge.

Hence his cheery announcement two days later when he walked into the studio Monday morning where he had a class with Chan and Jisung.

“I found it,” Changbin repeated, “I know where Minho works.”

The others gasped in shock, “Seriously?!”

“Yep. And I win. My bet was closest!”

“What?!” Han exclaimed, “Explain.”

“You know how I had dinner with my family Friday night?”

They both nodded,

“Well, I saw a cute little soulless waiter working the tables,” Changbin grinned, “But I made sure he didn’t see me.”

“Oh my god,” Jisung exclaimed still surprised over the mystery solved,

“But wait,” Chan jumped in, “That sounds more like Woojin’s and my guess. Busting tables is closer to fast-food work than working a bar!”

“Hold up. Let me finish. That’s because I didn’t say where he worked yet.” Changbin raised his eyebrows cockily, “He works at _The Grand Chancellor_.”

“The what?”

“It’s like the most expensive restaurant in this whole town.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“Nope. One-hundred percent it was him.”

“Damn,” Han groaned, “Fine. You’ll get your stupid money. I can’t believe he actually works somewhere reputable.”

. . .

This was how the boys ended up sitting at a large, round table with an array of more cutlery than they knew what to do with the next Friday night.

With the exception of Changbin, everyone felt unbelievably out of place as they were led inside. The shortest confirmed that they all scrubbed up well and as long as Han kept his swearing to a minimum no one would bat an eye at the college-aged boys in, mostly, cheap suit jackets.

This was easier said than done because Jisung had the evillest grin on his face as he kept straining his neck, looking for someone around the crowded floor as they were seated at their table. When he had called up to book the table, he had confirmed whether that sweet waiter named Minho would be working as he had left an _everlasting_ impression on Jisung last time and he wanted to be served by him again. It was a horribly blatant lie, but the women on the other end of the phone call confirmed it and said she’d make sure he was assigned to their table.

Chan was awkwardly patting at his hair as if his curls had suddenly sprung back up; Woojin was trying to settle the second oldest down while feeling equally out of place; Hyunjin was thinking he could get used to feeling as important as he did sitting at that table; Jisung was still scanning the room with keen eyes; finally Changbin was looking at the group and thinking maybe he shouldn’t have brought them here.

Not even a minute after being seated a soft voice directed at the table pulled their attention, “Good evening, my name is Minho and I’ll be your-" The voice cut off with a cough.

Han watched gleefully as Minho started his customary spiel before realising who he was addressing. From a distance, he hadn’t recognised them as he had only ever seen Chan in a suit before, but up close the was no mistaking the wicked smiles on the five faces looking at him.

“I should have known something was up when they said this table had requested me.” His sweet, server smile had dropped, and Minho was looking at them with a glare, “How?”

“My family really likes fancy places,” Changbin announced,

“Your birthday dinner,” Minho realised, mumbling to himself as he remembered Changbin picking out a nice suit for his dinner just before he left for work last week. He gave them all an accusatory look, “What are you planning on doing?”

“Nothing,” Han said sweetly, “We just heard this place has great table service and wanted to experience it ourselves. Now, shouldn’t I have been offered some water by now?”

Minho glanced nervously around making sure no one was watching him glower at the table, “I hate you all.”

“Now, now. That’s not the way to earn a nice tip.”

Minho stepped up close to Han now, crouching down to get right up to his ear, “I swear to God if I don’t have the biggest tip I’ve ever received by the time this night is over I am sharing your first mixtape all over Uni.”

Han gulped, eyes going wide as he looked up at the smirk on Minho’s face, “You wouldn’t.”

This time Minho directed himself to the entire table, “You’ve snatched me away from rich, white tourists to come and wait on you. I better be getting compensation.”

Hyunjin smiled then, “We better see your customer service charm then.”

Minho twitched as if he was going to throw something at the younger, but he composed himself and put that saccharine smile Changbin saw before back on his face, biting his tongue instead and handing out menus.

When he made it between Chan and Woojin the eldest whispered to him, “We wouldn’t actually let them do anything reckless to hurt your job. We were just curious.”

Minho nodded thankfully at the words, he was honestly a bit worried because this job paid real fucking well and he didn’t want his idiot friends to mess that up. Not that he thought they’d do it intentionally, just putting them all together was always a brawl waiting to happen.

After handing out menus he kept his sweet smile on and explained the specials before turning around to get water, releasing a tense breath once his back was turned.

They stuck true to Woojin’s word and didn’t do anything to draw attention to the table. Minho did contemplate murder at one point because Han was being deliberately picky. All because he loved having Minho under his control, obeying his every stupid request. It was made ten times worse by Changbin’s and Hyunjin’s obnoxious laughter encouraging every demand. By the time he had handed out all their meals he was thankful, he could ignore them for a few minutes.

He honestly wished his friends didn’t look so good and were turned away at the door, but unfortunately, he couldn’t deny how attractive they were in formal attire. He knew it especially so because one of his favourite waitresses to chat with had caught him while refilling the water bottles. Chaeyoung gushed about how jealous she was that he was working that table. She was, understandably, gushing over how handsome Hyunjin was and Minho just rolled his eyes. That was until she mentioned that her eyes were drawn to the dirty blonde the most though. He was wondering if she meant Chan or Jisung, but her next comment about gummy smiles answered for him, she said she liked something about the energy he had. There was no doubt she was talking about Jisung.

An idea popped into Minho’s head.

He raised his eyebrows suggestively at his co-worker, “Bet I can get that boy’s number.”

This was a game they played often because both of them were horrible flirts who liked messing with people. It was part of the reason why he was so comfortable with her. A _work-bestie_ she had called him. He found it easy to share freely with someone who he only saw in the confines of a uniform.

Today though, he was ready to up the stakes of their game. Neither of them had tried this out on the same-sex yet. She just didn’t have to know he already had Jisung’s number saved into his phone.

“No way.” She laughed at his wager, “What if he’s not gay?”

“Eh.” He shrugged, “I’m ready for a challenge. All you girls are so easy, all I have to do is a wink and my contact list is full.”

“Cocky much? Thankfully I’m immune to your nasty charm.” She elbowed him playfully, “Besides, you boys are just as simple. All I do is pop my chest, raise my voice and lower my IQ to turn you to putty.”

He laughed at her demonstration. It was true. He had seen countless men melt under her battering eyelashes.

“So, is it a bet?” He had finished filling the water and had to move on to one of his other tables.

She nodded, “Bet.”

. . .

A familiar giggle carried across the cacophony of dinner sounds and Han’s ears perked towards the source. The sound sparked a warmth in his chest. Jisung knew that laugh better than his own because it belonged to the one person who he could share anything with.

He spotted Minho chatting with a waitress, his head was thrown back as he laughed. Jisung couldn’t help but smile too because he loved that sound. He wasn’t sure what they were saying, but he could see Minho’s eyes sparkling mischievously. Jisung couldn’t help but think he looked good. There was no doubt in his mind that Minho in a full suit would be devastatingly stunning. His regal looks were made for formal attire.

It was unfair.

Han just felt goofy in comparison in his borrowed suit, he couldn’t help picking at a loose thread. Don’t get him wrong. He knew he looked good. But Minho’s looks just hit a different way.

He sighed and focused back on his meal, Changbin was explaining to Chan again which fork was for which part of the meal while Woojin was laughing at the second eldest’s dumbfounded look.

Before long Minho popped back over, same cheesy smile on his face as he asked how the meals were going.

It was a little unsettling seeing him so overly cheerful as he talked animatedly. They often joked Minho was soulless because of the indifferent way he often spoke, even if he was one of the most distinctive individuals out of their group. But this persona was so excessively perky that it left them a bit disorientated to watch, even with Jisung trying his hardest to get a rise out of Minho he never snapped.

After they had all mumbled something about the food being good Minho nodded, ignored them and turned to Jisung.

“I need your help.”

The younger had just stuffed his face with food, he looked up, cheeks bulging and mumbled something that sounded like, “What?”

“It’ll be fun. I’m messing with one of the waitresses. You caught her eye.”

Jisung perked up at the sound of a waitress checking him out.

“I made a bet with her that I could get your number.”

Hyunjin coughed from the other side of the table, choking on his food. He coughed a few times before squeezing out, “Someone is actually interested in Jisung?”

“Nah.” Minho said dismissively, “She just thinks he’s hot. She thinks you all are.” All eyes turned towards the waitress across the room. “Probably shouldn’t have said that. You all are a bit too desperate.”

Changbin looked ready to retort but Minho cut him off.

“The number is not for her anyway. We, err, play a game to see who can get the most numbers from people at our tables. I said I could get Jisung’s. So, it’s for me.”

Everyone was silent for a couple of seconds before Changbin started cracking up, “You are asking Jisung’s permission to pick him up? For a bet?!”

Minho gave him a scowl, “And what of it?”

“Nothing.” He was still chuckling, with Hyunjin’s giggles in the background. Minho could see Chan and Woojin trying to keep straight faces too. “I think this is great. Go on, Hannie. Give the waiter your number.”

Jisung was staring at Minho quietly, but mischief was starting to spark in his eyes, “What do I need to do?”

“Just respond when I text you. I just need proof it’s you and I win.”

Jisung nodded, contemplating his options, “And if I say no?”

Minho deadpanned, “Then I’m never sharing my notes from Musicology with you.”

“But it’s so dry! How am I supposed to learn anything in that class? You wouldn’t let me fail for a bet would you?”

“You know I would.”

Jisung huffed, but honestly, he was pretty amused by the situation as well, “Okay. Deal. Go win your bet.”

. . .

Minho walked into the backroom with the largest grin on his face. Once he made eye contact with Chaeyoung he pumped his eyebrows up a couple of times before sitting down and leisurely locking his hands behind his head.

“No way,” Chaeyoung looked at him mouth agape.

“Yes, way.”

“B-but it’s only been like ten minutes?”

“Guess no one can avoid my charm,”

She shook her head, “I don’t believe you,”

He gasped and put a hand to his heart, “As if I’d lie to you. I’ll send him a message right now to prove it,”

“How do I know it’s him and not some random number off your phone?”

Minho was typing aggressively into his phone now, “I’ll just get him to send a selca,”

“As if he would.”

Not even two seconds later Minho’s phone chimed. He spun his screen around and boldly showed her the message. Sure enough, a jpeg of a handsome young man with a round face holding up the peace sign was on his phone. It was definitely the same guy sitting out at the table right now.

“No way,” She exclaimed again. Before he put the phone away another message popped up and she squeaked. “He just asked what time you get off!”

Minho smirked before replying out of her view.

“I’m so confused are you actually chatting up this guy?” Chaeyoung sounded like she was in a state of mental breakdown.

Minho scoffed, “As if. He seems fun though. Got to play with him a bit.”

“You’re wild.”

Minho shrugged again, “As if you didn’t do the same thing with that man last week.”

“I guess. But this is another guy . . .” She trailed off,

He gave her a pointed look,

She put her hands up, “You know I wouldn’t judge. I just didn’t see this coming from you.”

“I’m not actually going to do anything with this guy,” Minho laughed, “Don’t worry.”

And that was it. The bet was won.

As if Minho would let it end there.

Once his break was finished, he went back over and continued waiting on his friends. They still couldn’t keep the smiles off their faces as they watched an elderly lady at another table coo over Minho as he helped her on his way to them.

One glower shut them up.

Later, while finalising up the bill, Minho confirmed that he and Chaeyoung were on the early shift tonight so that they could come in earlier for the restaurant tomorrow and that he would be out in half an hours’ time if Han could wait for them to change and come out. The younger nodded and grinned, settling that he’d be out the back then.

Thirty minutes later Minho was out of the restrictive dress shirt, a light jacket replacing it, and he had Chaeyoung at his side as they walked out the back door. A nice tip weighing down his wallet.

Waiting against the back wall of the restaurant was Jisung, messing about on his phone. The others had already gone home. Han stayed originally to accompany Minho as he wanted to grill him a bit more about this job and the bus back to campus to get Minho home also drove past Jisung’s share house. But the elder had suggested they mess with his co-worker a bit more while he was here.

Jisung looked up at the arrival of people and pushed off the wall. “Hey,” He called out and waved at them, even having the audacity to wink, “Thanks for agreeing to meet me.”

“Hey yourself,” Minho walked over to him, “It was my pleasure.”

Chaeyoung looked between the two in disbelief.

Had Minho actually agreed to go out with him?

She sucked in a breath when Minho stepped even closer and grabbed the other boy’s chin, “W-what?” She merely squeaked out.

She looked back and forth between them for a few more seconds, their eyes never breaking contact and she was bewildered by the tension between the two boys, practically strangers to each other.

Was Minho actually going to kiss this boy? Because that was not part of the bet.

Before he got the chance to do anything further, Han had had enough of Minho’s proximity and pushed him back, “Alright, piss off. I can’t do this anymore.”

Minho giggled and stepped back, “Fair enough. Thanks for helping me, man.”

“No problem. I can’t believe you actually work along my bus line. How have we never crossed paths before?”

“Because you work crazier hours than me, I doubt we’ve ever finished at similar times.”

Chaeyoung blinked twice in confusion before realisation hit and she stomped over dramatically.

“You asshole!” She yelled and smacked Minho’s arm viciously, “I can’t believe I actually believed you did that!”

Jisung looked at the girl and laughed, putting on an offended face, “And I can’t believe you thought I’d be charmed by him!” He gagged in emphasis,

“Hey! It’s only because you know me. If we were strangers, I’d have you eating out of my palm.”

“Sure,” Han scoffed, turning his full attention to the girl and bowing to the waitress, “I’m Han Jisung. I go to university with this idiot.”

She bowed back, “I’m Chaeyoung. It’s nice to meet you. I wasn’t sure Minho actually had any friends.”

“Hey,” The dancer called out,

“Trust me. It’s a surprise to us too.” Han replied, ignoring the whining male beside him.

Once introductions were made, they wandered together to the bus stop making small talk. Chaeyoung was rather friendly and didn’t hold the joke they pulled on her against them, she was actually pretty amused and impressed by it. When they finally made it to the bus stop Chaeyoung said her goodbyes.

“It was nice to meet you, Jisung.”

“Likewise,” He bowed his head at her again.

She turned to Minho, “And I’ll see you tomorrow night, yeah?”

He nodded, “Get home safely and I’ll see you then.”

She waved them off one last time before continuing down the street.

Once she was around the next corner Jisung spoke up, “She’s right you know.”

“What?”

“You are an asshole.”

“Yeah,” Minho agreed, a smile breaking over his face, “But a pretty one.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling as he let the chuckle fill his features.

The sound was inane, but God if Jisung couldn’t get enough of it.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yall are quick. Thanks for the kudos ^-^


	5. Confidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is that unwavering confidence that pushes you out of your comfort zone and makes you act.

“Hey, Minho,” Jisung called softly. They were chilling in Jisung’s room, sheet music scattered across the younger’s desk, taunting him as he once again lost focus.

A hummed response came from the bed where Minho was passing the time on his phone. Both were simply enjoying the others' quiet company.

“Who was the last person you dated?”

There was a pause as Minho locked his phone and rolled onto his side to look over at Jisung, the younger too busy fidgeting with his pen to notice the other’s apprehension, “Why do you ask?”

“Well um . . . See, there’s this girl . . .” Jisung trailed off, scratching the back of his neck nervously,

“Our little Sungie has a crush?” Minho cooed,

Jisung scowled, both at the new nickname Minho had taken to calling him, and at the playful smirk on Minho’s face.

But he didn’t try denying it.

“On who?”

“Kim Jiwon.” Jisung admitted defeatedly,

“The vocalist?”

Jisung nodded and Minho smirked again.

“Isn’t she a bit above your level?” He teased, “I heard she was top of the class. And wait, isn’t she my age too? Scandalous!”

An eraser bounced off Minho’s chest while he laughed at his own comments and Jisung armed himself with a highlighter, positioned ready to throw that too.

“Alright.” Minho threw his arms up in surrender, his laughter fading, “Don’t shoot. I’m just joking. Besides, have you ever like dated before?”

“I –” The highlighter clattered onto the desk, Jisung opting to put his head in his hands instead, “Not really. Not like proper adults who go out and get food or whatever. That’s why I wanted to know what your last relationship was like.”

“So, you figured you’d ask the wisest person you know?” Minho was absolutely gloating, “I have you trained well,”

Jisung rolled his eyes, regretting his decision in saying anything, “Shut up.”

“You don’t want my sage advice?” Minho put on a look of outrage,

“Shut up and tell me,” Jisung bit back, “Please.” He added at the last second.

Minho crooked a finger at Jisung, beckoning him to the bed. “Come, young one, and I will share all my secrets.”

Jisung just shook his head exasperatedly and pushed out from the desk, reluctantly walking over and crouching besides to bed.

Minho leant forward and whispered into Jisung’s ear, “See, I’m not really the sort of person to _date_ perse. So, I can’t really help you at all.” He pulled back, proud smile on his face while Jisung just looked on in disbelief.

“Why you!” He pulled the pillow out from behind Minho’s head and started swatting him with it. The elder simply giggled in delight as he fought off Jisung’s attack. Minho grabbed the pillow when Jisung aimed for his face and pulled it out of his hands. “You little shit.” Jisung continued, jumping onto the bed to push at Minho’s chest.

They wrestled for a while longer until Jisung had Minho in a headlock from behind, his legs holding round Minho’s waist. The elder was laughing too hard to fight back and tapped out on Jisung’s arm.

Eventually, Jisung unlatched his tight grip on Minho and rolled onto his back, the elder following along until he ended up laying with his head on Jisung’s chest instead.

After a couple moments where they were able to catch their breath, Minho said seriously, “I’ve had a couple small flings in the past, but nothing ever got really serious. So, I don’t think I’m the best to ask about this.”

Han nodded, staring contemplatively at the ceiling.

“What do you like about her?” Minho asked curiously,

“I don’t know. It feels stupid saying it out loud.”

Minho lifted his head just enough to smack it back down on the younger, “Coward.”

“Yah!” Jisung whined, reaching up to rub his chest.

Minho just clicked his tongue and didn’t say anything else.

“Fine.” Jisung pouted as he gave in, “Well, I guess she’s cute. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl prettier. And the way she sings too, it’s fucking amazing.” He blushed as he continued, “She has a nice body too.”

He could imagine it, how soft she would be under his touch, her ever-slight curves under his hand. He’d thought about how it would be nice to feel a girl under him, so soft and smooth as he tangles a hand in her hair. He knew he wanted more than the clumsy high school kisses and awkward grinding he’d shared in the past. Fuck, he was basically still a horny teenager, so of course he had thought about it.

“Then ask her out.”

Minho stated it so blatantly that Jisung spluttered, “I can’t just . . . do that.”

The dancer just shook his head in disbelief, “I have never seen the Han Jisung chicken out of anything. I watched you freestyle a rap in front of the whole music department when you forgot about an assignment. So, don’t try bullshit me.”

“But like you said, she’s so above my level. It’s stupid. It’s just a silly crush.”

Minho rolled around to put his chin on Han’s chest. He reached up, poked him affectionately – at least Jisung thought it was affectionately, he still hadn’t quite figured that out yet about Minho – and said softly, “Hey. I really was joking earlier. She’d be dumb to say no to you. You are so talented it’s ridiculous. And if she can’t see what you have to offer it’s her loss.”

Jisung didn’t respond immediately, at a loss for what to say to Minho’s kind words. Moments where Minho was genuinely serious were fleeting and always left Han disorientated. He was more used to their effortless banter as they stroked their own egos while knocking the other back, that was more familiar and comfortable. Neither were really good at honest talk. Minho always grew awkward and avoided it like the plague while Jisung always exaggerated and made a joke out of it.

Chan would probably have some snide comment at that about how they were emotionally incompetent.

Minho settled more comfortably on the younger’s chest. He was looking at Jisung while he stared up at the ceiling in a daze, “Besides, the worst she can do is say no,” He continued.

Jisung nodded, fingers finding their way into Minho’s hair, combing mindless strokes as he weighed his words.

“For someone who doesn’t _date_ you did actually help. I think.” Jisung finally said,

“Just because I don’t date doesn’t mean I’m not a master of love.”

Han looked down and Minho had one of his ridiculous smirks on as he waggled his eyebrows,

“You’re disgusting.” Jisung smacked him again, pushing him off so he could hop off the bed, “But I’m going to do it. I’m going to ask her out.” Jisung slunk back over to the desk and his mound of paperwork, “After I finish this assignment.”

Minho just gave his friend a dejected smile. He was happy he was able to lighten the weight on Jisung’s heart, even if it added to the load on his own.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a couple of shorter chapters I'll be able to get up quickly as they don't take a lot of proofing ^-^


	6. Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is an arm over your shoulder, a simple touch that makes you feel not so alone.

Jisung wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole when he joined the crew at lunch.

When they spotted him walking towards the table it erupted into a chorus of cheers and someone, he suspected Hyunjin, wolf-whistled, and he just knew what was about to be said.

But he pushed the embarrassment aside, resisted the urge to run and instead sat down between Chan and Changbin when they slid apart to make room for him.

“Congrats!” Chan exclaimed, clapping a hand on his shoulder, grinning like a proud dad, “My boy is finally a man.”

It’s a bit gross and outdated. But they’re barely adults, practically still a bunch of teenage boys, so even though Han cringed at the comment, he couldn’t help but feel a trickle of pride in his chest too.

“How-?” He started to ask sheepishly,

Changbin piped up, “Hyunjin told us _everything_,” There was a jovial tone in his voice that Jisung didn’t like,

“Everything?” He squeaked, looking over at Hyunjin,

Hyunjin just smirked, “You know the walls in our house aren’t that soundproof,” He scrunched up his nose, “It’s actually a little disgusting, but thankfully _it_ didn’t last long.”

They all laughed at his expense and Jisung prayed again that ground would open up. Instead, he sunk lower in his seat and fought the desire to pull his hood over his head.

Between his guffaws, Chan squeezed his shoulder again, “Don’t be rude, Hyunjin. It’s not every day a boy gets to pop his cherry,”

“And besides,” Woojin continued, “From what I’ve heard he probably lasted longer than you.”

This set the table off into hysterics again, and even though his ears were burning, Jisung laughed along too.

While Hyunjin was stuttering, trying to refute what Woojin said, Jisung looked around the table at his friends and locked eyes with Minho.

He had his usual cheerful grin on his face as he snickered at Hyunjin cussing Woojin out bravely, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Jisung also found it odd that the other didn’t join in teasing him because Minho was usually the first to poke fun. A moment of concern crossed his mind before he focused back in on the conversation and was glad to hear that the subject of his virginity was off the table and they were instead discussing Woojin’s latest break in getting paid vocal work.

His eyes travelled a few more times to Minho over lunch, but that small moment of concern didn’t stick for long as his distracted mind thought about where he would take Jiwon to dinner next.

. . .

It was not even a month later when Jisung found himself alone.

He was heartbroken further when he pushed past Hyunjin to get into his room, his taller friend sharing that she dumped him because a senior student was showing interest in her.

So, there he was, lying alone in his room with evening setting in after what he can only assume was the feeling of having his heart ripped from his chest. He watched the light that made it onto his bedroom wall as it changed from white, to orange and faded into black, filling his room with ominous shadows that threatened to devour him. He thought that would be nice if that darkness would just take him away because it’d be better than the ache that still burned in his chest.

Jisung just feels stupid.

Everything was so new and exciting, and he let his personality get the better of him as he dived headfirst into the relationship with reckless abandon. Yet he couldn’t quite find it in him to hate her. He felt embarrassed, being dumped out in the open like that, but she was right in a way. What they had was fun and easy, but was it going anywhere? Jisung hadn’t thought that far ahead. He also didn’t care if it didn’t because he was happy just being swept up in the puppy love they had together. But she was older and knew what she wanted, and Han just didn’t.

He was wondering which God he had to pray to, to erase his existence because how could he go to class and see her face without feeling inadequate.

Han Jisung did not do _inadequate_.

His inner monologue was cut off by a hesitant rap on the door.

“Go away,” Jisung barely mumbled out past his pillow,

The knocking persisted.

“Go away!” He shouted a bit louder,

Nevertheless, he heard the click as the door opened,

“I said, piss off, Hyunjin.” He growled, he really couldn’t handle looking at his perfect smug face right now.

But when he rolled over to glare it was not Hyunjin, but Minho carefully closing the door behind himself.

Minho could see how red and swollen Jisung’s eyes were, his nose pink and his lips chapped.

His chest tightened over how broken Jisung looked.

“Hey, I just heard.”

Jisung just grunted and rolled back towards the wall, he couldn’t look at Minho right now. He felt so stupid and embarrassed and Minho had such pity in his eyes.

He couldn’t handle Minho making fun of him right now because one more blow, _especially_ from him, might actually kill him. It had only been one year since he met Minho, but he was the closest person in his life, even if this past month he hadn’t been able to spend as much time with Minho due to being preoccupied with his girlfriend.

Still, even with Minho a bit distant the past few weeks there was still that ease that washed over Han whenever he was in his presence. He felt a little guilty over bailing on some of their usual times together to go see Jiwon, but Minho never called him out on it, so he assumed it was fine. They _were_ fine, right?

But just then, looking into Minho’s eyes it hit him hard and was enough to make his heart ache further because he missed the familiarity of his friend. Even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

So, if Minho teased him in his usual Minho fashion, Jisung thought he might actually break apart.

Jisung chose not to react when the bed dipped, and he felt Minho sit down behind him.

“You know I’m not really good at this stuff,” Minho ran a nervous hand through his hair as he looked at Jisung, curled up on his side in a tangle of bedsheets.

He’s not really sure what drove him to stop by, or what he planned on saying, but he just knew he had to do something. Chan said the look on Han’s face was devastating and he could see why. Jisung was the sun, he was the embodiment of loud and he was always full of joy and this was just . . . sad.

So yes, he was awkward and didn’t do well with wild emotions, and he was still upset in a jealous way he couldn’t admit, but damn if Minho wasn’t going to suck it up and give it a go for his best friend.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Minho reached out clumsily and ran gentle fingers through Jisung’s hair, ready to pull back if the other decided to lash out, “I just wanted you to know I am here for you, and . . .” His fingers lingered at the nape of Jisung’s neck as he considered how to phrase what he desperately needed Jisung to hear and understand. He was too out of his depth here, “And you deserve so much better than that. Than her. You deserve the world. More than that even. And anyone who is not willing to give that to you doesn’t deserve you.”

Now, Minho felt stupid.

So stupid.

He didn’t do this shit. He didn’t understand how Chan listened and gave advice so effortlessly. Maybe this was a bad idea. What he said was so corny and very _not_ Minho. He was just trying to channel his inner Chris.

Stupid.

He thought maybe he could just leave when he heard the sharp inhale before Jisung let out a shaky cry.

His heart faulted at the sound. Minho was definitely not equipped for this.

Chan was a failure. What would Woojin say?

“If you want to be alone that’s okay too. I just . . . I just figured I’d let you know I’m here for you.”

That was better. He thought.

Minho pulled back his hand and braced himself to leave but was caught off-guard when Jisung suddenly twisted around, grabbing the sides of his shirt and burying his face in Minho’s lap. He didn’t waste a second before placing both hands on Jisung’s back, running them in soothing circles. The sobs came more freely and soon Minho could feel the damp from Jisung’s tears, soaking through his shirt and sending a chill along his stomach.

Once Jisung’s grip on his shirt loosened, and the loud shaking sobs turned into sniffles, Minho carefully nudged Jisung back on the bed so he could swing his legs up and lay down too. He manoeuvred Jisung’s head from his lap to his chest and used both arms to pull him into a strong embrace, nose pressed into Jisung’s hair.

Han’s hands were splayed on Minho’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as he breathed evenly, something Jisung couldn’t achieve right now but was trying to replicate.

They stayed like this for a long time, even once Minho’s arm that was trapped underneath them fell asleep, and even though he thought Jisung may have drifted to sleep he didn’t pull it back. He didn’t know how much Jisung needed this so he was not going to risk leaving him alone just yet with only his tears for company.

It was hours later when Minho woke with a start.

At some point, they had both drifted to sleep and shifted apart. Minho was now laying on his back and Jisung had swung an arm out and smacked it onto his chest, jolting him awake. When Minho flinched, the movement had caused Jisung to stir too.

It took a second for Minho to remember where he was, and he immediately sought out Jisung. The younger’s eyes were bloodshot and puffy, but he gave a small smile before a yawn overtook his features.

“Thank you,” Jisung said, voice hoarse,

Minho shrugged in return, eyes downcast, “What are friends for?”

Jisung reached out and poked him in the shoulder, forcing eye contact, “Really, I mean it. Thank you.”

It was said with such significance, his eyes boring into Minho’s that the elder guiltily shoved Jisung to the edge of the bed and busied himself with digging around for his phone to avoid an actual acknowledgement to the comment.

Jisung accepted the shove as the closest he’d get to a reaction from Minho. It was so very him. God, Jisung missed that this past month.

The phone had slipped out of Minho's pocket while sleeping and after fishing around in the sheets and adjusting to the bright screen he saw it was just coming up to midnight, “I should probably go, I have an early class tomorrow. If you’re okay now?”

Jisung nuzzled back into his pillow, eyes already heavy, still exhausted from his outburst today, “Or you could just sleep here?”

Minho paused at that. He thought that sleeping in Jisung’s bed sounded really nice. But he also thought that Jisung was an emotional mess right now and probably needed some time alone too.

It definitely had nothing to do with how nervous he felt at the thought of a sudden sleepover.

At all.

He’d only ever stayed at this place before when it was a group affair, with Woojin, Chan and Changbin crashing in the lounge too. Over the past year, Jisung and him had gotten unbelievably close, but there were still some friendship boundaries they had yet to tackle together.

“I would,” He finally replied, stretching out his stiff muscles from the awkward sleep, and only babbling slightly, “But it’s a workshop and I really need my dance shoes and it’s a long way to travel back to mine in the morning. Plus, I haven’t had dinner yet”

“Oh,” Jisung tried to hide disappointment,

“You are okay now though?”

Jisung waved him off dismissively, “Yeah, bro. Don’t worry about me. Go get some sleep so you can slay the dance tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Minho reached out and brushed a couple of stray hairs from where they had fallen into Jisung’s eyes, “Goodnight, Sungie. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With that, Minho slipped off the bed and out of the room.

All Jisung could think about was how he felt so foolish for crying over Jiwon, because that novel spark of joy he got by spending time with her was nothing compared to the utter content that washed over him when Minho held him safe in his arms. There was something about being completely enveloped by Minho, his sweet scent and surprisingly strong arms that shrouded a wave of calm over Jisung, while also conflictingly twisting his gut with nerves and making his heart race.

A little part of his mind, way deep down, took that piece of information and started to puzzle over the implications of what he just felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit. Poor MinMin. Jisung be breaking his heart without realising. What a shitty friend.
> 
> And yep. It has been one year since they’ve known each other. Jisung is now in his 2nd year and Minho in his 3rd.
> 
> Writing heartfelt dialogue always feels so cheesy. I always feel like I’m not doing people justice to their character. Minho especially is hard because I see way too much of myself in him and I am bloody hopeless at consoling people, it’s always an awkward affair. So, unfortunately, he gets that trait in this fic. 
> 
> Did I plan on updating so quickly? No. But am I going to anyway? Damn right. Your praise has got me pushing to get things done faster. Who cares that I have two lit reviews due next week and am too busy writing about Minsung to finish them?? @.@
> 
> Thanks always for the support ^-^


	7. Soulmates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is that one person who you click with on a whole other level.

It was an epiphany . . . Jisung thought.

When one day they’re just sitting in each other’s company, Jisung on his phone while Minho finished some classwork.

It just felt right.

Relaxed.

After the breakup incident, Jisung had some time to ponder his feelings, and even though he was still confused, the one thing he knew was he and Minho were comfortable together.

Following that dreary night, Minho had since taken up the offer to stay over in Jisung’s room, and in return occasionally he stayed over at Minho’s. The difference was when they were at Jisung’s they would always share the bed, while at Minho’s it felt strange to sleep in one bed with Changbin across the room. On those nights Jisung would always camp out in the middle of the floor.

It’s not they did anything, and he certainly hoped the others didn’t think they were doing anything. But it just felt too private for them to sleep together with another person in the room.

They never spoke about this fact, both came to this same understanding without a word, and it was sitting there in silence together that this suddenly clicked with Jisung.

Minho was that one person who he connected with on a whole other level.

Hence, despite his ever-growing confusion about his feelings, one thing was certain. He and Minho were something more than just friends. Something even greater than brothers.

“Hey, Min,” He called softly, drawing Minho’s eyes up off his computer screen, “We go together well.”

Minho crinkled his brow at Jisung in confusion, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Don’t you think?” Jisung said this with his face so unbelievably bright, eyes wide as if he just realised the secret of the universe,

“Eh. I guess?” Minho was wondering if he missed something because he was still perplexed by this train of conversation,

“I’m being serious. I don’t think I’ve ever found anyone who understands me like you do.”

“Okay . . .”

“Don’t you feel it too? It’s more than just being friends or brothers.”

Minho shook his head but couldn’t help but laugh restlessly at Jisung, “And you called me the weird one.”

Jisung pouted, “If you’re saying you don’t feel that way too, I’m leaving this room right now and you can finish that paper by yourself!”

“Fine,” Minho relented, rolling his eyes, “I guess I do think we go well together.”

“Good.” Jisung nodded approvingly as if that was all he needed. He turned back to phone.

Minho blinked in disbelief at Jisung’s casual suggestion of their relationship. Yes, he did think they went well together, but he didn’t understand what exactly Jisung meant by it.

He needed something more.

“But, in what way?" Minho’s voice was a little unsteady as he asked, "What way do you like me?”

Jisung looked up again at his quiet words, this time he cocked his head in confusion, “In what way am I supposed to like you?”

Minho shrugged, a nervous giggle on his lips, “I don’t know.”

He wanted to dismiss that he said anything because the bewilderment on Jisung’s face was answer enough for him.

Jisung contemplated his words anyway, taking a moment before answering, “I think we are soulmates.”

“Soulmates?” Minho baulked, “Isn’t that a little . . .” He trailed off,

“I think it fits. I understand you and you understand me in a way the others don’t. What else is there to it?”

“Soulmates.” Minho let the word roll off his tongue again, uneasily rubbing the back of his neck, “I think I like it.”

“It’s settled then.” Jisung smiled so broadly that his gums were showing, and his eyes twisted into little crescents, “Please always be my soulmate?”

Minho smiled back just as brightly, laughing incredulously, “Anything for you.”

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet for our b’day boy. But oh, the cringe.  
Y’all other crazy Minsung shippers know it. This was one of the first drabbles I did for this pairing, as you can probably see where the inspiration came from. It sat untouched for a long time before I decided to add to it and this whole story came about. Half of the sample lines in that prologue did not exist when this started, but it just grew and grew.
> 
> Anyway, Jisung is still a mess. But he seems to be working through things. Maybe.
> 
> Probably won’t update for a week as I get some stuff sorted in my actual life. But I am no way done with this fic yet. Thanks for your patience ^-^


	8. Honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is midnight runs to the corner store when you feel you’ll go crazy, so open and honest in the dead of night.

“Come on, Sungie. We are leaving this room.”

Jisung merely groaned from his spot at his desk, he no longer hated the cute nickname, in fact, he found it awfully endearing.

“I know this deadline has you worried, but if you stare at that page any longer, I think it might erupt in flames.”

Another groan followed.

“I’m serious. I will drag you from this room. You aren’t as big as you think you are.”

Jisung gave him a scathing look, “And where are you planning on taking me?”

Minho, completely unfazed, said, “Wherever. You just need to get out of this room. I was thinking maybe a snack run.”

Jisung perked up at the word snack, “You’re a terrible influence, you know? I don’t know why I keep you around.”

“Probably because I’m easy on the eyes,” Minho winked,

Jisung scoffed rather than dignify that with a response,

“C’mon, I swear it’ll be easier once you’ve had a breath of fresh air,”

“I guess . . .” Jisung wasn’t awfully convinced, he was horribly behind on his music history essay,

“That’s the spirit!” Minho jumped up, pulling Han to his feet too, “Now grab a coat, it’s cold out tonight.”

Still, with a hint of reluctance, Jisung followed Minho’s orders, trading his half-finished assignment for the cool winter air as they make their way a few blocks over. There was barely anyone on the streets at this time of night and they made the journey with companionable small talk, laughing and shoving each other playfully. Jisung couldn’t lie that it didn’t feel good to be out and moving his legs, and he didn’t complain when Minho offered to pay for the small mountain of food that they amassed at the convenience store.

The air was shockingly crisp when they walked back outside, fooled by the overbearing heat of the small corner store. Minho noticed Jisung pull his beanie lower over his ears and breathe deeply into his hands. The elder shifted his grocery bag onto his elbow while he removed one glove, holding it out to Jisung.

“Hand,” He demanded,

Han raised an eyebrow at him, “I don’t think one glove will help. It’s better you keep both.”

“Not if I hold your other hand,” Minho pouted and waved his hand in Jisung’s face, the glove balanced on it accusingly.

Jisung snorted and put on the glove, begrudgingly taking Minho’s hand in his. Minho gave his hand a firm squeeze, swinging their arms a couple of times like a small child would before letting them rest comfortably, hand in hand.

“I still can’t believe you all graduate this year,” Han mused, looking up into the night sky,

“Yeah, it’s pretty surreal for me too.” Minho admitted, “But there’s no way Chan and Changbin aren’t getting into honours, and Woojin’s job isn’t too far from here so it’s not like they’ll be leaving really.”

Jisung smiled at that thought, but there was someone else he wanted around too, someone who he wanted to stay more than the others.

"What about you? Did you decide yet about what you want?”

Han knew Minho wanted to leave the small city for somewhere bigger, a place where more work was available. A part of him knew it was best for Minho to go, but another – larger – part of him wanted to be greedy and beg Minho to stay. He couldn’t imagine his life on campus without Minho. He had no idea how he made it through those first two months of study before they met. It was not the happiest time of Han’s life.

“Maybe,” Minho finally confessed quietly, “But I didn’t want to tell anyone in case I didn’t get in,”

Jisung turned to him, quirking a brow, “You have to tell me now,”

He felt Minho’s hand tighten around his before he responded, “I applied for Honours too.”

Han’s mouth dropped, “Here?”

Minho nodded, “I just felt it wasn’t time to leave yet. There’s still too much for me to improve on.”

Jisung’s chest swirled with delight. He’d have another year with Minho now. “That’s really cool, man. I have no doubt you’ll get in.”

Minho shrugged noncommittally, “We’ll see,”

“Bro, you are like the smartest dude I know – don’t tell Chan that, it might break his heart – and one of the best dancers I’ve seen. There’s no way you’re not getting in.”

“I mean, I’m not going to fight you on those points,” Minho agreed with an air of playful arrogance, “But it’s still nerve-wracking waiting to find out. Part of the reason I dragged you out here tonight was because I was going crazy myself, just sitting in your room thinking about it.”

Jisung nodded understandably, he was currently trying to decide if he’d follow his friends and complete further study too. Truthfully, he was sick of classrooms. He was never good at conventional learning, so if an opportunity came to him, he would take the first chance he could get to not go back after graduating.

By now they were nearing Jisung’s home, but the younger stopped and pulled them to the right, down another side street instead.

There was something about late-night walks he loved. There was a tranquillity to it, the wide-open sky and the empty streets making them feel like the last two people in the world. It was dreamlike. He could walk for hours at night and still arrive at his destination refreshed.

Minho set his feet, staring with brows furrowed, “I know this assignment has you a little insane, but your house hasn’t moved last I checked,”

“Shut up,” Jisung bumped Minho’s shoulder with his own, “Just let me enjoy this a little longer before I have to go back.”

“Okay,” Minho relented easily, following him along, “But I’m not taking the blame tomorrow morning when you’re cranky from lack of sleep.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“And you’re dealing with sleepy Hyunjin if he wakes up when we get back.”

Jisung paused at that, finally scoffing, “Fine.” Before mumbling under his breath, “But you’re the one he’s scared of.”

They wandered aimlessly around a few more blocks, munching on chips with their hands still clasped together. It took some trial and error, but they found it’d work if Han was holding the bag of chips with his free hand while Minho fed them both with his. Minho had talked about the latest dance he’d been working on and how there was one set of steps he just couldn’t seem to perfect. It was normal banter as they chatted back and forth about class, family and the latest shows they’d been watching.

In a moment of quiet, with their hunger satiated, Jisung’s mind wandered down another path and a question he never got a proper answer to came to his attention.

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Minho smirked, “You just did.”

“I swear to God. I will push you into the gutter. You know what I meant.”

Minho’s giggle filled the air, but he nodded anyway, “What do you want?”

“You never did tell me who it was who you last dated. You’ve heard all about my failed attempts at romance, but I have no idea what hearts you’ve broken.”

“I’m flattered as always. But how are you so sure I’m the one breaking hearts?” Minho asked,

Han huffed a reply, “Because, despite your rude ass attitude, I find it hard someone would let your pretty face go easily.”

Minho grinned at the compliment, but still punched Jisung for the former comment,

“That’s what I mean! You are dangerous company.” Jisung rubbed his arm, laughing, “But even though you try to hide it, I know you. Under that arrogance is a gentle heart.”

Minho scoffed, cheeks pink from more than the cold, “I could say the same about you,”

“But I’m not the one under interrogation right now,” He said while giving Minho a pointed look,

“Eh,” Minho shrugged weakly, “It’s all in the past now. What does it matter?”

“Oh, come on. You can’t leave me hanging.” Jisung spun around and stopped in front a Minho, pitching his voice a couple of octaves higher and poking a squishy cheek with his free hand, “Give me an idea of what cutie oppa Minho was like,”

“I will hit you again.”

Jisung flinched, “I don’t doubt it. But I’m not moving until you tell me one name.”

Minho pulled his hand out from where it was still entangled with Jisung’s, he tried to make it a casual gesture as he fixed his hair in the breeze, but Jisung was painfully aware of the missing warmth and the way Minho’s movements were a little stiff.

Once free, Minho pushed past Jisung with enough force that the younger actually stumbled when he was knocked aside.

“I guess it didn’t end well then,” Jisung mumbled mostly to himself, but still loud enough so the other could hear, before chasing after Minho, “But you know I’m still essentially new here, so it’s highly unlikely that I’ll know any of them. Plus, what could I possibly have to say that has you so embarrassed. You saw the train wreck that was my attempt at dating. How could yours be any worse?”

Minho stopped so suddenly that Jisung nearly tripped when he halted himself from running into the back of the elder.

Minho turned around to face Jisung, but kept his head lowered, eyes on their feet and didn’t say a word.

For someone who was so open with his opinion and didn’t shy from attention, Jisung found that when it actually came to genuinely discuss emotions, Minho really liked to close himself off. Most the time Jisung was happy to play along because he was just as bad, making a joke out of every sincere comment, and usually, he shared more than enough for the both of them, but sometimes he just wanted Minho to take things seriously.

“Really, bro. No judgement here.”

Minho opened his mouth, stopped, closed it again and pursed his lips.

Jisung felt more uncomfortable with each passing second. He was honestly just joking, but the atmosphere was suddenly overbearing with tension as Minho struggled to say something. They hadn’t been this tense with each other since the first week they spoke.

Awkwardly, Jisung put a hand on his shoulder, “Hey. If you’re not ready to share it all now – or ever – you don’t have to. I just- I thought it was therapeutic to let it out, you know? Just tell me her name or something.”

Jisung had seen all of Minho’s gawky mannerisms before, every single odd way he presented himself. But right then, he could tell Minho was restless with worry as he twitched nervously. Something was eating away at his closest friend and it hurt him not knowing what.

Minho finally let out deep, shuddering a breath, “I can’t tell you her name,”

Jisung opened his mouth to protest again, but Minho cut him off, finishing off suddenly and quietly,

“Because it wasn’t a her.”

It took a moment to register in Jisung’s mind, then his mouth dropped open, “Oh.” It was the only sound he could produce. Minho was fidgeting so much under the younger’s unyielding stare, aware of Jisung’s hand still on his shoulder, “I didn’t realise you were . . .” Jisung trailed off awkwardly,

“Gay.”

Minho finished it for him, taking a step back until Jisung’s hand dropped and he finally found the courage to look into Jisung’s wide eyes, “It’s not that I’m trying to hide it exactly, it’s just, a personal detail about myself and it never really comes up, you see?”

Han soaked up the words slowly, swallowing around his dry mouth, “Who else knows?”

“At Uni?”

Jisung nodded.

Minho turned away again and took a moment to think it through, thankful that Jisung didn’t immediately yell at him or recoil. He didn’t think the younger would, but it was a fear that still froze him in place every time he had to tell someone who he was. A fear that stuck with him through every awkward explanation of the fact it wasn’t a phase and he knew with complete certainty that he would be happy spending the rest of his life with another man.

“Chan knows,” Minho explained quietly, “He was the first I told. Then Woojin soon after. Changbin knows too, he ah, came to the room one night when he said he’d be out of town and I had to explain my company to him.” Minho laughed in embarrassment at the memory, “That means that Jun knows too. We were both mortified when Changbin turned up. I think he just wanted to experiment and fool around a bit and then that happened, and he was so humiliated he certainly didn’t tell anyone.”

Jisung just silently took in the information, in total disbelief that no one had leaked this yet. Honestly, he thought it would be impossible for all of them to keep from making some snide comment or joke about it at some point. He might have to take Changbin a bit more seriously from now on.

“And I think Hyunjin suspects it, but I haven’t actually said anything to him yet.”

“Hyunjin?” Jisung croaked in a tight voice,

“Yeah.” Minho furrowed his brows, “But that’s okay because I have my suspicions about him too.”

Jisung couldn’t even process what that meant right now because he was still gaping over the fact that Minho was gay.

Minho liked boys.

Minho who had slept by his side – and even in his arms over multiple nights and in his bed – liked dick.

“So that’s it on campus, I think. But of course, a bunch of people know back home and just around.”

“How did I not know?” Jisung finally asked dumfounded,

Minho shrugged, tapping his foot restlessly, “It’s not like I tell people casually. I’ve never been good at putting my feelings into words and it just never came up. I only told Chan because I felt awful with no one knowing here. He’s the one that said I should tell Woojin as well. It’s just . . . Hard. I don’t like all this sappy bullshit. Like, what does it matter who I like? And I certainly don’t want people to change what they think of me because of it.”

Han nodded, however he was in disbelief, “But I should have been able to tell, right? I’ve known you for like eighteen months. How did I not know?!”

Minho shrugged again, “I don’t run around with a pride flag hanging from my back if that’s what you mean,” He said it a hesitant smile on his face, “And I haven’t really been looking at dating while here. Dance was more important the past three years, so yeah . . .”

“Fuck, dude.” Jisung was still baffled, frozen in place. He spent more time with Minho than he did with anyone else, “How did I not figure it out?”

“Chill, man. Like I said, it’s really not something to broadcast.” Minho was worried, he could feel the accusations coming, the complaint that he was hiding it on purpose.

“I just feel useless. This is such a big part of who you are! If I couldn’t figure that out . . .” Han left the thought unfinished,

“Really, Jisung. You’re overthinking this,” He chuckled nervously, letting one corner of his mouth twist upwards, “Plus, it’s not like I’m some sort of leper because of it.”

Jisung’s eyes widened again, “I-I didn’t think that,”

“It’s cool. I know. I’m just joking with you.”

Minho swatted him teasingly and Jisung flinched, almost imperceptibly.

Almost.

Minho noticed.

To him the movement was like a punch to the gut. It wiped the playful smile off his face and the anxiety that was twisting in his guts moments ago came crashing back full force, if not harder than before. He recoiled back, further this time, head hanging down as he studied their shoes again.

“I swear I haven’t been trying to come onto you or anything. Like you’re my closest friend, me being gay doesn’t change anything about that,” Minho rambled, “But if you don’t want to hang out as much, or if you feel uncomfortable around me that’s. . . Okay.”

Minho forced the last word out because it was an outright lie. If Jisung rejected him he’d probably just curl up and die, right there on the sidewalk.

“No.”

Jisung blurted it out quickly, and he meant it.

He did feel _something_ with this knowledge. But he didn’t know what that was yet. It didn’t change the other in his eyes though. Minho was still Minho.

The only thing that hurt him was that he realised the others knew before him. He rationalised that of course they did. Chan and Woojin had known Minho for a year before Jisung met him and Changbin was his roommate. Nonetheless it crushed Jisung that such an important part of the others life was kept from him.

Jisung took a step toward him, offering his hand again, “Soulmates for life, yeah?”

Minho's eyes travelled from the younger’s hand and up to Jisung’s face. His eyes were full of such warmth and sincerity and the gentle curve of his lips had Minho’s vision growing blurry. When he looked back down to the outstretched hand, he couldn’t help but liken it to a life raft, pulling him from the depths of his insecurity and into calm accepting waters.

“Yeah.” Minho’s lip trembled as he took Jisung’s extended hand.

The younger pulled him into a forceful embrace. Jisung could hear Minho’s unstable gasp as he held back his tears, so Jisung pulled him tighter, unbearably so until his breath evened back out. He knew Minho wasn’t one to cry easy – hadn’t once since he’d known him. So, the fact that he was brought close to tears now showed just how strongly Jisung’s acceptance had affected him.

Jisung hoped that Minho understood.

Understood that he’d never leave him for such a ridiculous reason. Understood that he meant more to him than he could ever voice. Understood that when he called them soulmates it was because every cell of his body knew that no matter where they went, it was supposed to be them together, side by side forever.

He just hoped Minho understood.

Finally, Minho pulled back, no sign of the tears that threatened to fall, so typically Minho to brush off the encounter.

Along with those tears, gone was the tension that had fallen between them. The uneasiness around them dissipating under Jisung’s comforting embrace until all that was left was Minho’s familiar wicked smile, the one that made Han’s heart beat faster because it never meant anything good for him.

“I think we’d better get you home. It’s nearly 2 am and you still have an essay to write while I sleep.”

Jisung groaned, planting his feet while Minho laughed and pulled them in the direction of Jisung’s house.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so, fuck me. I wasn’t going to post anything until after Sunday because one of my lit reviews is due then and I am struggling to hit the word count which is really sad you know? I can write over 30,000 words of fanfic but can’t write 3000 words on a topic I will be doing for the rest of my working life. Just why?? :/ :/  
But anyway, yeah so Jisung didn’t actually realise Minho was gay . . .  
This was such an important chapter for me to get out and I’m still not happy with the final product, but I just can’t look at it anymore.  
This chapter also has some elements of real life in it too. Back in high school I knew one of my closest friends for nearly two years before she found the courage to come out to me (I had no idea).  
In this I wanted to get the point out that it doesn’t matter how close you are with someone, or whether or not you know how accepting they are, it’s still really fucking scary coming out.  
And I say this as a straight female who probably has no right to, but after watching some of the closest people in my life struggle with coming to terms with who they like I just really wanted to add that in here.  
Thanks all for the continued support! Next chapter will come who knows when ^-^


	9. Flirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is a push and pull of teasing and flirting that you hope no one looks into, but they are blind to the caress that lingers and the way your heart races with every second it does.

Jisung was so fucking excited.

His solo composition had been chosen to be showcased at their university’s spring open day, something very few second years ever hoped to achieve. So, there was no stopping the unbridled joy as he practically skipped to their usual table at lunchtime. The widest grin upon his face, showing his perfectly gummy smile.

Chan, Changbin and Minho were already there eating. The latter couldn’t help but smile as well as he saw Jisung approaching, his shaggy hair bobbing up and down with every hop.

He looked ridiculous.

Minho loved it.

“I got in!” Jisung declared loudly once he was within shouting distance, which considering his volume could’ve been outside the campus grounds,

“The showcase?” Chan asked, eyes curious with surprise and pride,

“Yeah, man!”

“Hell yeah!” Changbin congratulated, extending an arm for a fist bump.

Minho exclaimed, “Nice!” offering a high-five.

“Good work, bro.” Chan said, “I told you you’d be making history,”

“Thanks. I always knew I would,” Han smirked, “But I just didn’t realise it’d be so soon. I hope the famed life suits me, and I hope you like the shadows because I’m going to be in your spotlight now, Channie.”

“You what?!”

Before Chan could reach over and smack the younger, Han had hopped back from the table, bouncing on his feet and laughing loudly, “Sorry, old man. Gotta be quicker than that!”

He started skipping again, dancing around the table playfully.

“Yah! Sit down would you, everyone is looking,” Changbin scolded, trying to stifle his own smile,

Jisung was currently bouncing from foot to foot, rolling his body from side to side in a shimmying sort of dance, “No can do. I was up all night anxious for the setlist release and I’m currently cruising through the ‘so tired that I can’t stop moving’ stage of exhaustion.”

Chan was getting dizzy just watching him move, Minho was still smiling hopelessly and Changbin was debating whether it was acceptable to use a leash on a human being.

“Besides, how can a sit still when I haven’t told the others yet?”

Just as he said that Hyunjin and Woojin stepped into the cafeteria. Before Changbin could respond Jisung raced across the room to meet them halfway. The three still at the table could hear him exclaiming his accomplishment from here and laughed as he skipped back to the table, the other two in tow.

Once everyone was present, Jisung plopped down into the seat next to Minho, a little breathless but still smiling widely. He couldn’t actually stay for long, he just wanted to share the news to them in person before running off to his next class.

At long last quiet, Minho stated why he couldn’t keep that stupid grin off his face, “I love when you get excited and jump around like that. Your fluffy hair bounces like a golden retriever.”

Jisung gave him a repulsed look,

“Oh my god, it really does!” Hyunjin laughed, the others agreeing too,

“I don’t know if I should be offended,” Jisung pouted, “Did you just call me a dog?”

“No . . .” Minho giggled, “Maybe unintentionally.” He reached out and poked one of Han’s cheeks, “I always thought you looked more like some sort of squirrel or chipmunk.”

Han spluttered at that, swatting Minho’s hand away, “I do not!”

“You totally do! I’ve seen you eat, you stuff food in your cheeks and everything!”

Jisung’s eyes grew wide, “Doesn’t everyone?” He looked pleadingly at the table,

A couple shook their heads and the rest said “No.”

“See!” Minho declared victorious, “It’s only you, squirrel-boy.”

Jisung whined and shoved his shoulder, “Shut up and eat your hocks, piggie.”

Minho paused midbite of his food and turned to Jisung. The glare on his face had the rest of the table hollering, all cheering on Han’s imminent death.

“Sorry,” Jisung added hastily, but it was too late.

Minho let his chopsticks drop into his pork bowl and everyone was impressed with the speed at which he flew at Jisung.

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Minho ‘pig’, but previously it had always been when they were alone. Plus, despite it being said in teasing, it was always said with an equal amount of affection. At least Minho hoped it was affection. Han had certainly never said anything so disrespectful in front of the others and Minho wasn’t about to let him without punishment. The others couldn’t know he was going soft for this fluffy boy.

Minho got Jisung into a headlock barely two feet from the table.

“Ow,” The elder cried immediately and flinched but didn’t release his grip, “Did you just bite me?”

Jisung merely made a chomping motion again, aiming for the soft exposed skin of Minho’s wrist which he could still reach. A faint pink mark already there from his last bite.

“Quit it,” Minho squealed again, pulling them to the side to get Jisung off-balance, “Or I’ll drag you like this to my next class.”

Jisung whined, thrashing around weakly, but with no real effort on his part, he was still stuck under Minho’s arm, eventually giving in with a pout.

“Do you have anything to say?”

Silence.

The arm tightened, and Jisung suddenly realised that it wasn’t just their table now laughing at his predicament.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Jisung repeated quietly, wriggling pitifully in Minho’s grip, “You know I like you, Hyung.”

Minho simply locked his arm tighter. Everyone at the table was hooting at Jisung’s dilemma, as anyone finally squaring up with Jisung was the epitome of comedy.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Jisung was pleading now, he had his reputation to maintain and being manhandled in the middle of the cafeteria wasn’t the way to do that, even though they both knew he could get out if he really tried, “Dinner? I’ll even take you to that fried chicken place you love. All on me.”

Woojin perked up at that, “Is this a group offer?”

Jisung twisted in the headlock to glare at the eldest, “This is a onetime offer for Minho,” He tapped at Minho’s arm around his neck, “Release me now and you can even pick from the gold menu,”

Minho pursed his lips in thought before letting the younger go, “Deal.”

Jisung stood up straight, rubbing at his neck, and brushing off his clothes as if he wasn’t publicly humbled. He waited until Minho was sitting back down and eating again, the others finally letting their roars settle before he spoke up again, “I knew the way to pig’s heart was through his stomach.”

Chaos erupted at the table again and Jisung thought Changbin might pass out with how hard he was laughing.

Before Minho had a chance to retaliate Jisung was sprinting away, yelling behind him, “Gotta get to class early to discuss the showcase. I’ll swing by the studio after to meet you for dinner!”

Minho glared daggers into his back but couldn’t help the same cheesy smile that slipped onto his face again.

. . .

That night Jisung stuck to his promise and was waiting outside that dance studio at five pm.

Minho was chatting with a few people from his class as he walked out the double doors, waving them off when he saw Jisung hunched over a bench typing away furiously on his laptop, quite obviously unaware that the class had been let out and people were walking right past him.

Taking the opportunity, he crept around behind the younger and grabbed him suddenly by the shoulders.

Jisung shrieked and leapt from his seat, large headphones fell back off his head and he only just stopped his laptop from crashing to the ground.

Minho doubled over in laughter, only feeling slightly guilty.

“What the fuck, man?!”

Minho was wheezing, “You make it too easy. How can I not?”

Jisung put his electronics down, shoving Minho hard before putting a hand to his thumping heart, “After I came _all_ this way just to take you to dinner!”

“Your class is like in the next building,” Minho rolled his eyes, “And, unless you got your licence without telling me, I’m pretty sure I’ll be the one taking us to dinner.”

Jisung pouted,

“Besides,” He lifted the towel around his neck to wipe at his forehead, still slightly damp from dancing, “I didn’t think you were being serious about tonight.”

“I never back down on my promises!”

Minho scoffed, “Yeah, you do. Unreliability is like one of your defining features,”

Jisung stuck his lip out further, “Still . . .”

“Don’t sulk, Sung. I’m not saying I’m not going to go,” Minho laughed exasperatedly, “I just would’ve showered and that if I thought you were coming. I’m all gross from dancing.”

Jisung gave him a once over. Minho was in a t-shirt and sweats. There was a wet patch around his collar and leading down his chest, his hair just as damp to match. He was still a bit flushed and honestly, all Jisung could think was he looked good.

Exactly how good? Jisung still wasn’t ready to admit how much so.

“I was there at the Summer Show, you know? I have seen far worse from you when you-”

“Aye! We don’t talk of that.” Minho protested, throwing a hand over Jisung’s mouth and looking around exaggeratedly to make sure no one heard,

Jisung chuckled and threw his hand off his mouth, “Fine, fine. I guess seeing as we’re actually going out to eat you probably should wash up. Did we need to stop by your room?”

Minho shook his head, “Nah. Just hang on here for a few more minutes and I’ll use the studio showers. I always keep a spare set of clothes in my locker here.”

Jisung nodded and watched Minho run back inside, turning back to his composition.

Han had thought that after Minho’s confession last month that their dynamic may have changed in some way. But instead, he found they were still as close as ever. The only thing that seemed to have changed was Jisung himself. It wasn’t constant, but every now and then he felt this conflict whenever he was alone with Minho. It hit at the strangest times and left him horribly confused. It was a fizzing in his gut on some days or an imploring in his chest on others. All he knew was that when Minho gave him that smile – the one where he looked at Jisung like he was the only thing that mattered in the world – it left Jisung feeling like he was suffocating and weightless all at once.

Some days he wondered if Minho felt it too. The tension that seemed to build and build and build only to then dissipate between them. But Minho never acted in a way to suggest to Jisung that he did. So, Han did what he did best when it came to something he couldn’t understand.

He ignored it.

Ten minutes later Minho came back out, this time in jeans and a nice, if slightly crumpled, striped button-up. His hair was still damp, and he knew it was going to go fluffy in this early spring weather, but the thought of free food had his stomach growling and he couldn’t care enough to fuss over it any longer, opting to toss a beanie on it instead.

Jisung was in the same hunched position as before, but this time Minho walked in front, calling out softly as to not startle him again. Jisung quickly shoved his things into his backpack and followed Minho to his car. It was a slightly beat-up little thing with bright blue paint, but it did its job.

It was a surprise to the group a month back when he announced his purchase. No one knew he’d been saving up for it. They didn’t even know he had a licence. He explained it made the work commute easier because no one liked catching the creepy midnight bus and walking home that late during winter. No one could deny that, and his job at the restaurant was the furthest out of all their part-time work, so that was that Minho had a car.

Jisung was excited because he realised very quickly that he could use his charms to scam rides out of Minho. The elder was shockingly soft when it came to Han’s puppy eyes, though he would never admit it and would hit anyone who called him out on it – usually Changbin. Hyunjin always held his tongue because it often meant he was able to third wheel the soulmates from the back seat and get a free ride to and from home too.

The restaurant was crowded when they arrived, even though it was barely six pm. Neither minded as they settled into the waiting area chatting absentmindedly, leaning close to hear each other over the loud clattering and sea of voices that made up establishment’s noise.

“Did you get new shampoo?” Jisung cut Minho off midsentence, unintentionally, he had just leant close enough to Minho to get a scent of his still drying hair.

It wasn’t creepy. He swore.

They had just spent enough time together that he knew Minho’s smell. It was always slightly fruity, not a typical cologne smell like Jisung used for himself. It was refreshing and something he liked about the dancer. Tonight though, he still had his sweet scent with that usual fruity edge, but Jisung also caught a whiff of something pine. He turned his nose closer to Minho’s nape and took a deep breath.

“What?” Minho’s brows furrowed at the question as he pulled back and gave Jisung a look of confusion.

Jisung shrugged, “You smell like a forest,”

Minho’s brows crinkled further before realisation dawned, “Ah yeah. I have a different body wash in my locker, it was probably that.”

Jisung nodded shallowly and quickly returned to the topic they were discussing before. He was blushing lightly, luckily hidden by the dim restaurant lights. He wasn’t sure why he felt embarrassed by his own sudden query. Yes, he was abrupt with his question but something like that shouldn’t have made him feel as ridiculous as it did with Minho’s confused eyes on him. He had asked a lot of weirder stuff in the past.

But there was that bubbling in his stomach. That tingling along his nerves as Minho eyed him closely for a few moments longer before he too shook off Han’s question and returned to the conversation.

Thankfully Jisung didn’t have to divert attention for long as a server came to lead them to their table, one of the two-seaters with one seat against the booth wall. Jisung pushed his way forward and claimed the booth seat with a victorious smile on his face as Minho rolled his eyes and settled into the dining chair opposite. The server handed them their menus and said she’d be back with some table water and to take their orders in a moment. All the butterflies were gone.

“You’re a child,” Minho proclaimed once they were alone,

“You’re just jealous you didn’t get the booth,” Jisung responded and stuck out his tongue,

“As if.” Minho scoffed, he wanted to retort more but a tray of food passing their table distracted him and all thoughts besides the menu in front of him were shoved from his mind.

Before long the waitress was back taking their orders. Minho, surprisingly, kept his order to an amount healthy for Jisung’s wallet. Only because he knew if he ordered any more the younger would change his mind and refuse to pay. Still, he ordered a small collection of dishes that had both of their mouths watering at just the thought of them.

While waiting on their food Jisung was animatedly explaining what he had to do for the showcase. The elder simply nodded along, genuinely happy for the other's achievement. Soon enough food arrived, and the chatter dissipated as the focus was all on eating. Minho offering Han bites of his food here and there.

Jisung was watching, amused, as Minho slurped up a bunch of noodles and sloshed sauce all over the face in his haste. While still laughing, he called Minho closer and used a napkin to wipe the sauce from his cheek.

“And you called me the child,”

Minho stuck his tongue out in response,

“Gross,” Jisung scrunched up his nose, “I saw _everything_ in your mouth.”

Minho smirked, leaning forward, puckering his lips and making kissy faces at Jisung before opening his mouth with an ‘ahh’, getting as much into Jisung’s face as he could with a table between then.

Jisung shoved him back, a pure look of disgust on his face, “How you are the elder here will forever remain a mystery.”

Minho just giggled and shrugged before going back to last of his food.

After a few more minutes of quiet eating Minho pushed away the empty plate of chicken and pulled over the beef, saying quietly, almost too low for Jisung to hear, “Tonight is sort of a celebration for me too,”

Han tilted his head in question, humming through a mouthful of rice,

“I got accepted for Honours.”

The smile that brightened Jisung’s face made Minho’s heart do somersaults and he couldn’t help the bashful grin that filled his face too.

“I told you so!” Han exclaimed,

“Yeah, yeah. I never doubted my skills either,” His smiled turned playful, “But Chan says it’s rude to brag, especially to those who aren’t blessed with as many talents as me, so I held my tongue just for you.”

Han pointed chopsticks at him critically, “God you talk so much shit. Doesn’t your mouth ever get tired?”

Minho flicked Han’s chopsticks away with his own, stuffing some beef into his mouth while saying, “Like you can talk. I think I actually caught Hyunjin googling socially acceptable mouth gags the other day when you wouldn’t stop singing at lunch,”

Jisung sulked, “Nah ah, everyone loves my voice,” And to prove his point Jisung opened his mouth and started belting out two words before Minho was able to reach across the table and shove a piece of meat down his throat, effectively shutting him up.

Jisung coughed on the food, a tear coming from his eye as he said, “Choke me, daddy.”

Minho gagged on his own food in surprise and kicked Jisung’s shin under the table in revenge. The other yelped, grabbing at his leg but it did not stop his throaty laughter from spewing out.

“I’m going to tell Chan you said that. We both know he has that daddy kink so I reckon he can help you out with that,”

Jisung paled, an image he’d really rather not have pictured filled his mind, his sniggers quickly died off. The sound was replaced with Minho’s cackles as he laughed while tossing his head back and slapping his legs at the look on Jisung’s face.

When he pulled himself back up, Jisung snorted to himself. Minho’s beanie had slipped back, and his hair was fanned out in a mess, still fluffy from the air dry and now very much out of place from where it was pinned by the headwear.

“Come here,” Jisung crooked him forward again and fussed over him, carefully putting his hair back in place.

“Thanks, mum.” Minho teased,

“No problem, my baby,” Han cooed and scratched under his chin,

Minho giggled and pushed out his chin like a cat before settling back in his chair, belly full and heart content. “I guess I should probably take you home.”

“Yeah. I guess.” Jisung stretched, surveying the mass of empty dishes with pride, “But besides the showcase, I don’t actually have any other study to do, so tonight is a write-off.”

“Ah. So, you decided to use me as entertainment for the night, distracting me from my own studies for your selfish needs?”

“Pfft, as if you ever put study over free food.”

Minho pursed his lips, “True, but I also know that you’re just whipped for my company,” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, “I can’t blame you, it’s good company.”

There was a pregnant pause, before Jisung said, “Sometimes I wonder why I’m friends with you. Your ego is big enough to generate its own gravity.” He shook his head, “But then I think how I’d say the exact same shit in your place, and I resign myself to the fact that we really are the same person.”

“Ew. Take it back.” Minho scrunched his nose in disgust, “I take offence to that.”

“Oh, shut up, _soulmate_. We are the same.”

Minho pushed himself up from the table, “Nope. I refuse. I’m leaving you behind. You can find your own way home.”

“Pretend all you want.” Han laughed, getting up too, “I am you.”

“That thought terrifies me.”

“Nah, you love it,” Jisung followed Minho to go pay for the food, punching his shoulder once he caught up, “And you love me.”

Minho made a gagging noise, causing Jisung to punch him. Again. Harder this time.

They flagged down their waitress who came over to the counter and rang up their bill. Despite all his gloating, Minho did try to offer up some cash for his share of the meal, but Jisung adamantly refused.

“I know you’re a big money maker with all your rich people tips, but this one is on me, baby. Think of it as a down payment for all the rides you’re gonna give me.”

Jisung grinned and Minho backed off unwillingly, letting the younger pay.

Once the bill was settled and they were ready to leave the waitress spoke up, voice sheepish but with a purpose, “I just wanted to say you guys looked very cute together. It’s nice seeing more open couples. I know it’s the 21st century but this town can still be really narrow-minded sometimes which makes it hard. I just, yeah,” She smiled self-consciously and looked longingly at another girl serving across the floor, “You give us hope that maybe we can do it too.”

Jisung blinked slowly a couple of times trying to figure out what she meant, he looked to Minho who had his brows drawn together in confusion too. Suddenly his eyes widened, and he broke down into his soft giggles. “We’re not . . . He’s not . . .” Minho tried hard to get out but couldn’t.

Then Han’s whole face flushed red.

She thought this was a date. She thought they were dating. She thought Minho and him were a couple.

Jisung made a small choking sound.

The realisation must have dawned on her too because she gasped, “Oh my god. I am so sorry. I just assumed. I saw you leaning on each other in the waiting area and because he, like, wiped your mouth and you fed him and it just seemed so comfortable and, and the ‘baby’. And now I’m making things awkward. Just forget I said anything.”

Minho was amused, he laughed good-naturedly as he watched the poor server backpedal while Jisung tried to wish his blush away.

“It’s okay, really. We are pretty close friends so I can see the confusion.” Then he winked, “I wish you and your girlfriend the best of luck anyway.”

This time the server blushed at Minho’s words.

Minho grabbed Jisung’s arm, the younger stumbled as he was pulled out the doors and back to the little blue car. He was still reeling at what just happened. He was uncharacteristically silent as Minho started the car and began to drive them towards Jisung’s house, but the elder didn’t seem to care. Jisung could feel it again when they were sat side by side in Minho’s little sedan. That _something_ between them that had been building. There was that unspoken tension simmering just below the surface, taunting him with answers just out of reach.

Jisung only snapped out of his embarrassed stupor when Minho turned up the radio, belting out the lines to some pop song. A smile filled the younger’s face as he watched the other pump his fist dramatically to the music.

“Yah! Keep your hands on the wheel!” Jisung tried to scold, but his laughter broke through and soon he was singing along too.

Once they arrived at Jisung’s, Minho came in to chat with Hyunjin and Yeosang – the third housemate. All three shared a dance class and Minho wanted to talk about their latest assignment. Meanwhile, Jisung reluctantly wandered back and forth half-assing his weekly chores. Chores that Yeosang had kindly reminded him were from last week. It now being Thursday.

Minho, for months, was confused as to how Jisung and Hyunjin got the quiet boy to be their roommate. Then one day he was there when Yeosang bought his best friend, Wooyoung, over and suddenly it made sense.

That kid might have actually been louder than Jisung.

Their talk drifted from class to work, and from work to the latest episode of a drama they all watched. Jisung eventually finished his cleaning and had padded back over to chat too. Somehow this continued until they were all camped in the lounge watching a movie together. Minho had claimed the loveseat, dragging Jisung with him and settling the younger between his legs.

Jisung was thankful the lights were off as Minho absentmindedly shifted his position and slid his hand from around Jisung’s waist to his thigh. He didn’t know if Minho was aware of it or not, but he was stroking his fingers lightly back and forth along his leg and Jisung’s heart started racing in response to the light touch. He looked around to check that no one else was as aware of the touch as he was, but they were focused on the screen and not the way Jisung was melting under Minho’s fond hand.

When the credits rolled it was somehow after midnight. Jisung had done well to stay awake as long as he did after his worrying the night before, but he was well asleep before the end of the movie. Minho had one hand at the back of his head, soothingly dragging his fingertips through Jisung’s shaggy hair. The younger had half-curled onto his side in Minho’s lap, the way Jisung’s mouth was hanging open would have been adorably endearing to the elder if he wasn’t worried he was about to be drooled on.

Hyunjin flicked the flights back on and Minho made a dramatic motion of stretching to wake the younger up. Jisung whined and tried to snuggle further into Minho’s chest before he was shoved unceremoniously to the floor, yelping at the sudden lack of warm body or any other support under him as he thumped to the ground.

“Rude.” He mumbled over a yawn as he picked himself up off the floor.

Minho stifled a yawn of his own as he went to get his shoes. He didn’t have class tomorrow morning, so he wasn’t too fazed about the late-night drive back to campus accommodation. Jisung was having none of that though and demanded he stay the night, swearing he wouldn’t wake him up as he left for his morning class. Minho complained that wouldn’t it be weird if he stayed around at the house when no one was there after they left for class. The other housemates confirmed they didn’t care. They were used to Minho’s presence at the house at this point. With no more excuses it was settled, Minho was staying the night. He quickly sent Changbin a message that he wouldn’t be back before the other could send out a search party.

After saying their goodnights, Jisung and Minho went to the younger’s room. Jisung tossed a pair of his baggier sweatpants and a shirt at the elder to borrow for the night and sent him to wash up first. Grabbing out some clothes for himself he was pretty sure the shirt he picked might have actually belonged to Minho at some point. The other confirmed as much when he came back from changing and exclaimed that he’d been wondering where he lost that shirt. Han merely shrugged that it was his now, causing Minho to shove him and threaten something about stealing _another_ hoodie.

Rather than questioning it, Jisung left to wash up himself and came back to find Minho had already stretched himself out right in the middle of the bed, a grin on his face. Han huffed but switched off the lights and stumbled through his clothes littered floor to the bed. He forcefully pushed Minho to one side of the bed with a whine and slipped under the covers with his back to him. That didn’t keep the dancer away for long as soon Jisung had an arm draped over his stomach. With the lights off, just him in Minho’s arms he didn’t have to worry about the butterflies in his stomach. All he had to think about was how warm and safe he felt there. So, despite his protesting, he didn’t really want to push Minho off. Instead, Jisung shifted back towards the warmth until he felt Minho’s breath at his nape and swiftly fell asleep.

. . .

The next morning Jisung was sitting on a kitchen stool glaring at his coffee as if it would make its own way into his body to wake him up.

He was _not_ a morning person.

Hyunjin was not much better, but he at least found the strength to make himself some breakfast. He also looked far more presentable than Jisung currently did. He wasn’t yet styled but he was dressed impeccably, and his morning face was far less swollen than Jisung’s, especially after the big dinner he had last night. Jisung also had on the thick glasses that he only ever wore at home for a reason, his hair looked like he was swept in a tornado and he hadn’t made it out of his pyjamas yet.

After slipping out of bed being careful not to wake Minho, he had opted to obtain caffeine first thing to kickstart his day. He would much rather be sleeping in like the other, curled haphazardly in his blankets, but he couldn’t afford any more mornings off with the eyes on him now that he was in the showcase.

Jisung was responding to Hyunjin’s questions with one syllable answers or noncommittal grunts, trying to internally decide whether he could be bothered getting himself food. On one side food, but on the other side effort.

Abruptly a pair of arms wrapped around his middle and a chin settled on his shoulder. He flinched at the unexpected contact before relaxing into the familiar touch, a fruity scent following.

“Morning,” Hyunjin called to Minho, nodding to him before taking the last bite of his toast,

“Morning,” Minho replied, a yawn breaking up the word,

“What are you doing up so early? I didn’t think you had class until one?”

“I don’t,” Minho replied to Jisung’s question, “But seeing as you were so kind as to let me crash here I figured I’d do the nice thing and give you a lift to class so you don’t have to catch the bus.”

“Minho and nice?” Hyunjin laughed as he wiped his empty dishes down, “They don’t fit in the same sentence.”

“And here I was going to ask if you wanted a lift too,” Minho hummed, “With that attitude, I guess you can catch the bus.”

Hyunjin spun around, “I would never say anything bad about our great benefactor, my best-est friend who would definitely not leave me to mix with the commoners on public transport.”

“That’s what I thought,” Minho huffed.

He squeezed his arms once more before releasing Jisung’s middle, going into the kitchen and digging out a bowl. He was already as dressed as he had to be to drop them at class and make his way back to his dorm, opting to stay in Han’s sweats. He could return them whenever.

Han pouted at the loss of warm contact, but he also queried why his heart was racing at the hug. They hugged all the time. He even fell asleep with Minho’s arms around him last night. But for some reason, Hyunjin there watching with his hawk eyes made him embarrassed. The others had seen them hug and cuddle before, but this was different. It felt more intimate. Maybe it was because Minho was wearing his clothes and him Minho’s, or maybe it was because he had just stumbled out of Jisung’s room and bed with the perfect amount of sleep ruffled to his look, or maybe it was even because very few people saw this side of Jisung, he definitely did not usually let people get so close to him in his grumpy morning state.

Or maybe, just maybe it had to do with the fact that someone thought they were on a date last night, and what Minho just did was something Jisung had definitely done to Jiwon. His overworked morning brain was puzzled over what that connection meant.

“Go get dressed and I’ll make you some toast,” Minho said while pouring himself cereal, looking up at Jisung who was still staring perplexed at his now empty mug, “Otherwise you’ll both be late.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisung mumbled as he slowly shuffled to the sink to dump his mug. On his way back past Minho took the opportunity to smack him across the ass, making him jump and squeal.

It was too early for his brain to be processing the action.

“A little faster thanks, Sungie. Otherwise, Jinnie and I are going without you.”

Jisung turned back to glare at Minho, hoping that no one could see the faint blush on his cheeks before he went off to get changed.

He was blushing way too much lately. He wasn’t sure if he should be concerned about how on edge he had become with Minho while others were watching him. Thankfully though, Hyunjin was immune to their antics, excusing himself to finish getting ready without a second glance at them.

Before long they were all piled into Minho’s little blue car. The radio providing white noise while the three of them were all occupied with their own early morning thoughts.

Jisung was stuck on one thing in particular.

He hated how conscious he was of Minho this week. Every time the other was there his senses were fuelled in a new way.

No one seemed to recognise the way his heart raced with every touch of Minho lately. He’d even tried hard to deny it himself. But he was suddenly very aware of how striking Minho was.

Jisung had always recognised his noble looks. But now he appreciated the way Minho rested with his mouth parted slightly so you could just see a glimpse of his two front teeth within, or how full his lips seemed when he pouted with a moan.

He always liked how Minho had a sweet voice, the soft timbre remaining even when he had to shout to be as loud as the others. But now he was horribly aware of the fact that Minho could go almost as low as Felix, with a full-chested voice that he knew would also have women’s knees shaking.

He always liked how Minho was quick to have a goofy grin on his face. But now he was aware that Minho looked at him with the same fondness-filled eyes that he looked at Minho with, and that they were the number one cause for an embarrassed grin of joy to split onto the elder’s face.

Jisung wondered what had changed because unpredictably Minho looked so fucking cute, still barefaced and sleep ruffled, in his thin-framed glasses as he hummed along to the radio, and all Jisung wanted to do was poke that adorable little mole on his nose.

Shit.

It was Jisung’s last thought as they pulled up to campus and Minho waved them off.

Because he could finally put a name to that _something _he had been feeling build between them.

But there was no way he could be attracted to Minho, _right_?

Fuck.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo. As the chapters get longer I get lazier with editing. So you'll probably start seeing even more mistakes and it'll make more sense why I broke this up to try and make it easier for my lazy editing self.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed ^-^


	10. Desire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is suggestive words laced with alcohol; cherry lips curled into a smirk – a dare – with eyes that give way to anxiety within.

The year was coming to an end.

Much to everyone’s delight.

Woojin had work lined up after graduation; Chan, Changbin and Minho already had plans in place for their upcoming honours; Hyunjin and Jisung were heading into their final year and were excited to start mentoring some of the younger classes, already gravitating towards a cheerful transfer student.

So, when they find out that said transfer student, Felix, was throwing a party at his house to celebrate the end of the year everyone decided to go, pushing back travel home for a couple of days. The cheerful kid only moved to the university in the second half of the year, but he was the exact mix of crazy and stupid that he fit right onto their lunchtime table.

Felix’s house was practically a mansion, hidden up on a hill away from neighbours, making it the perfect party location. Instructions had been given to Chan to invite everyone he knew – which for Chan meant the entire campus and neighbouring university – so the place was already crowded when they arrived.

Music was booming from multiple doorways and the yard. Everywhere you looked people were spilling out in a hyped-up mass, and with a number of people still ambling up the driveway, the place was going to be packed. Drinks and joints were making rounds while people were grinding on the makeshift dancefloors, and the boys couldn’t help the grins that split across their faces.

They saw a glimpse of the sunny, blond host as he encouraged them inside to grab a drink and have fun before flitting off to greet other arrivals. Before long, the five boys had plastic cups in hand and had dispersed throughout the house to greet classmates and strangers alike.

Jisung could feel the thrum in his veins, something telling him tonight was going to be one hell of a night.

. . .

Han’s bright personality was often misleading.

Between Minho and Jisung, it was actually Minho that gravitated easier towards strangers to make small talk. He could strike up a conversation in a slightly awkward but effective way that made Han a little jealous. So, it was with a hint of cowardice that had the younger gluing himself to the dancer’s side while he moved around the house chatting with the other graduates and classmates alike.

Minho didn’t seem to mind, he welcomed Han’s company and introduced him to friends he had yet to meet. Jisung knew Minho was a friendly person, under his brazen exterior, but seeing just how many people he knew when they were all in one place was odd. It wasn’t a bad thing. He was just so used to Minho being his.

Thinking that, it sounded horribly possessive even to himself, but Jisung liked that he and Minho were a pair, if you knew the one you knew the other. Yet, meeting all these new faces he was again reminded that Minho had a life before he started on campus.

It especially took Han by surprise when a guy he’d never seen before came up and engulfed Minho in a ferocious hug and placed a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“Minho?!” The word was a little slurred, “It’s felt like years since I’ve seen you! How are you?”

Minho wiped his cheek in feigned distaste and swatted the guy playfully, “Hey, Hyunwoo. I’ve been good, how about yourself?”

The guy leaned in close and started speaking in a more hushed tone. Han knew he probably shouldn’t have been listening so closely, but in his state, the guy wasn’t actually whispering, “I found myself a boyfriend, can you believe it? We plan on leaving this shitty little town together at the end of this year, figured one more party and we are out of this hell-hole.”

“No way,” Minho gave a genuine laugh, smiling as he said, “I’m glad to hear that. Is he here? I need to meet the person who was able to get you to settle down. I never could imagine you in a committed relationship.”

“You know I matured a lot since you last knew me!”

“Sure, sure.” Minho laughed again, “I still remember the way you nearly cried after kissing me.”

Han blinked in surprise again, still standing quietly while watching the boys interact.

“Oh, come on, Min. I was a scared closeted gay from the suburbs when we met. How was I supposed to cope with you?”

“You seemed to cope just fine after us.” Minho raised a brow, “I seem to recall a number of guys on your arm.”

“Yeah, well, love has made me a changed man. Besides,” Hyunwoo’s eyes shifted sideways, seeming to realise Han was still waiting close at Minho’s side, “Are you not the same?”

“No, no.” Minho waved him off with a nervous giggle, “This is Jisung, he’s just a friend.”

Jisung waved a small greeting.

Hyunwoo roved his eyes up and down Han’s figure, and Jisung was sure they lingered at his waist, tightly wrapped in a pair of skinny jeans, and his biceps, proudly displayed in an oversized tank top, before stating, “Shame.”

Han blushed.

Minho punched Hyunwoo’s arm, scoffing, “Changed man my ass,” He had noticed the way Jisung’s eyes tilted down nervously, “Neither of us are drunk enough to deal with your shameful flirting yet, come find me when you have your man for me to meet okay? We’re getting more drinks.”

“Okay, Min-Min. It was good to see you.”

“Same, Woo.” Minho nodded to him, rolling his eyes while dragging Jisung away by the arm away.

Once they were away, Jisung was finally able to shake the stupor off. They leaning against a kitchen counter in the next room over, with Minho shoving a fresh cup of alcohol in each of their hands.

Han looked at Minho questionably, sipping the cool liquor as a way to try calm the flush in his cheeks, “Do I want to know who that was?”

“Probably not,” Minho gave him a signature smirk, one side of his mouth curving up higher, “I hate to break your heterosexual bubble, but there are a lot more curious guys out there than you’d think.”

Jisung choked on his beer, causing the other to giggle,

“Just because I haven’t been looking for a relationship doesn’t mean I haven’t had a taste of what this town has to offer,” He finished with a wink.

Han floundered trying to think of a response.

Minho was always very subtle when speaking about his past relationships, whether due to his cautious nature or as a way to not make Han feel uncomfortable, the younger hadn’t yet figured out. A part of him had always thought that Minho must have had quite a lonely time while studying, not quite hiding, but also not being fully open with his sexuality. But maybe his best friend had been getting more action than he had. That thought twisted in his stomach in an uncomfortable way, with more than one type of jealousy rearing up.

“Oh,” He settled on uselessly,

Minho noted the pained look on Han’s face, clarifying without being asked, “Hyunwoo and I were never anything serious. I honestly think he just used me as a steppingstone to confirm he was gay so he could come out in flamboyant Hyunwoo fashion,” Minho laughed at the memory, stepping closer and bumping against Han’s arm, “I’m sorry if he made you uncomfortable.”

“Huh?” Han looked up at Minho, he was too busy focusing on the feel of Minho’s skin against his bare arm to comprehend what he was asking.

Minho tipped his head back, leaning further against the counter. Jisung was acutely aware of how it shadowed his jaw and cheekbones handsomely, even in the harsh kitchen spotlights.

“What he, ah, implied,” Minho said almost sheepishly, “Hyunwoo really is the worst flirt I know.”

“Oh, that.” Han’s mind flickered back to Hyunwoo’s comment, “Hard to imagine someone being a worse flirt than you,” He elbowed Minho back, “But I can’t blame him. I know I look fucking good tonight.”

Minho turned his head towards Jisung, and his eyes roved over him in the same way Hyunwoo’s had just before.

Minho shook his head, sighing, “Yeah you do,” then giggled nervously.

It wasn’t said with Minho’s usual jeering tone, no comment on how Jisung was being cocky or how it didn’t matter because he looked better than the younger anyway. It was said with a seriousness that had Jisung eyeing him carefully.

Han then realised Minho was tipsier than he let on. If his rosy cheeks weren’t a giveaway, his candid words were. Jisung was wondering if maybe the few beers he’d had were hitting him harder than he thought too because the way Minho had looked at him had made his chest pang and his stomach giddy.

His eyes swept over the rest of Minho appreciatively in return.

He was in a flattering pair of leather pants with his eyes outlined in a way that made them seem even larger and darker than usual, drawing Jisung in until he couldn’t help but blurt, “You do too.”

Then he quickly downed his drink, recognised a face across the room and used it as an excuse to flee from Minho’s side before anything else could be said.

. . .

Sufficiently tipsy, Jisung had finally found his social courage and was talking with a girl he vaguely recognised from their own university.

She was cute.

She had large brown eyes and long dark hair. He could appreciate her body too, even if it was a bit too delicate for his taste. He found himself looking at her slim legs and thinking he wanted more. More curves. More thigh.

But he was drunk, and she seemed interested and he was desperately trying to drown that voice inside of him that compared her giggle to Minho’s.

Yes, he found her appealing, but he didn’t feel that same flicker that ignited in his chest when his eyes trailed over Minho’s body. He thought that if he just focused harder on the sparkle in her eyes that maybe it would erase the memory of the galaxies he saw in Minho’s.

She had a hand on his arm, and he was leaning close, catching a trace of her flowery scent that he wished was a bit sweeter and a tad fruitier, when an elbow bumped into his.

His eyes tightened ready to tell whoever it was to watch out when he recognised the soft giggle and voice calling his name.

Minho was way too close for comfort, lips at his ear to be heard over the thumping music, and Han could feel breath on his neck when he spoke, “Jisungie! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

Jisung could tell Minho was more than a little buzzed by now, but at this point, who wasn’t?

“Hyung?”

“C’mon,” Minho pulled at his arm, “Chan’s been talking up his skills at beer pong and I told him you and I could thrash him anytime,”

“What?” Han looked alarmed, “I’ve never played beer pong before,”

“How the- ” Minho stopped his tugging and gave Han a look of disbelief, “You know what, never mind. Now is the best time to learn. With me on your team, you can’t lose.”

Han looked pleadingly at the girl still in front of him, but she just laughed and let go of his arm, “Go on, it’d be good to see Chan lose something.”

So, with one last wistful look in her direction, he let himself be whisked away by Minho. He wished he had stared just a bit longer at the curve of her lips and maybe, just maybe, it could’ve distracted him from the thought of Minho’s mouth pressed to his ear. Instead, he was left with the picture of Minho’s cherry coated lips as he followed after a head of wavy brown hair and leather-clad thighs.

Minho was practically skipping as he dragged Jisung through the house, pushing through the drunken crowd and eventually leading them into the backyard. There he saw Chan and Woojin gloating over a table topped with two triangles of plastic cups, arms raised as they dared the crowd to challenge their reign.

Minho pulled Jisung right up to one end of the table, a challenge in his eyes as he picked up a ping pong ball and held it out to Chan. The group around the table grew silent at the action.

“Game on.” Minho declared, egged on by new emerging cheers from the crowd.

Han could see the second eldest’s eyes were a little bloodshot, but he still seemed steady on his feet as he nodded to Minho’s challenge, Woojin a silent yet imposing figure beside him,

“I’ll even let you go first,” Minho said sweetly, and the crowd hollered in response,

Chan laughed but accepted the ball, going to his end of the table with Woojin just behind.

“I assume you actually know the rules?” Minho whispered to Han at their edge of the table,

“Of course,” Han replied, “I think.”

The first ball sunk effortlessly into a cup right in front of Han.

The audience cheered.

Minho reached over and picked the ball out, chugging the content of the cup and tossing it aside, “Since it’s your first time I’ll take the first one and show you how it’s done.”

His obvious confidence gave Han a boost of faith.

Although, watching Minho’s first throw lost it all.

And then some.

The crowd laughed pitifully as Minho’s toss sent the ball clean over the table and all the cups right to Woojin’s feet.

The eldest let out a high-pitched laugh and Minho couldn’t help giggling at it too.

“I thought you said you couldn’t lose?!”

Minho rolled his shoulders, a smile still on his face, “I’m just warming up.”

More cheers from the peanut gallery erupted as the little plastic ball tossed by Woojin landed into another cup. Han looked at it apprehensively.

“That’s yours,” Minho picked out the ball and shoved the drink at him.

Jisung looked at the brown liquid, swirling it once before he quickly sculled it and coughed as it burned down his throat, “What the fuck is in that?”

Minho shrugged, “Beer?”

“No shit. But these cups are fucking spiked with something strong. Do you want me to die?”

“Didn’t you tell him we play high stakes?” Woojin called across the table,

“He didn’t even tell me the rules!” Han yelled back, suddenly very worried he was on the losing side, the crowd seemed to think so,

“Holy shit,” Chan exclaimed, “I thought you were kidding when you just said it was his first time,”

Minho shrugged again, “We will still win,”

“You are already wasted if you think that,” Han turned to his teammate, “Is it too late to switch sides?”

“Yes, it is.” Minho smacked him, holding a ball out, “Now shut up and throw the ball.”

Han shook his head. He was a lightweight, he was willing to admit it. With the way this game was going, it meant he was very likely to end up passed out in a bush somewhere within the next hour.

Minho battered his eyelashes and pouted, “Come on, you wouldn’t leave me to play all by myself?”

Jisung would, he totally would if it meant he didn’t have to watch Minho lean over the table again in those tight pants. But that wasn’t really a reason he was willing to admit.

“I will actually throw up on you if I have to drink more of those cups,”

Minho scoffed, “Coward,”

“Like you’re any better! I know you’re a lightweight too. We’ll both be dead before this game is over!”

Laughter floated across the table, “Trouble in paradise? Do we need to call a couples counsellor?”

“Fuck off, Chan.” Jisung fixed him with a glare,

He threw his hands up in surrender, “Alright, alright. Just once you start a game there’s no backing out. So, finish your couple’s squabble later and play the bloody game.”

Jisung flipped him off, but reluctantly snatched the ball from Minho’s hand, setting a glare on his teammate too, “Just so you know, I hate you, and you are drinking the next three cups,”

“Aw, I love you too. Now throw the ball.”

Han tossed it across the table and surprisingly, it sunk into a cup.

The crowd cheered again.

Jisung was not sure which side they were going for.

Unfortunately, it must have been beginners’ luck because he didn’t land a single ball for the rest of the game. Luckily, the same seemed to be true for Chan and Woojin who also struggled more as the game went on.

Minho stuck to Jisung’s word and did drink the next three cups, but Han ended up drinking another two as well before the game was over.

As much as he complained, Jisung did have a pretty good time. Even if the world started to sway around him making it harder and harder to throw the balls straight.

It didn’t matter though because was Minho a fucking darkhorse.

Anyone who watched his technique as he flailed with his left hand would say there was no way he could win, but the boy had an angel on his shoulder because every second throw the ball sunk smoothly into a cup and somehow the table was suddenly cleared of all but one of Chan and Woojin’s drinks, and they still had a slightly better two cups in front of them.

It was Minho’s turn.

The crowd started chanting his name, it was far further than anyone had come to beating Chan and Woojin since they started playing tonight. Minho lined it up, one leg in front of the other and left hand raised, he closed one eye and threw the ball.

Jisung must have been pretty drunk, because the ball seemed to fly through the air in slow motion. But also, one moment it was in Minho’s hand and the next it was in Chan and Woojin’s last remaining cup.

The crowd roared.

Minho let out his own yell, fists clenched in victory as he turned around and threw his arms around a very startled Jisung, almost knocking him off his feet with the force of the hug. Jisung laughed and hugged him back, only stumbling a little as they jumped in place to the chant from the crowd.

After their victory moment, they turned to watch Chan, who was very wobbly on his feet, as he drunk the losing cup. He didn’t seem that upset about the loss though, and Woojin was too busy keeping Chan from falling to the ground to care about the game. He took it upon himself to direct his friend to a seat where he would force him to drink a lot of water over the next hour. He slapped Minho and Jisung on the shoulder in congrats as he practically carried Chan to the closest bench.

Once the crowd broke apart and a new group moved up to the table to start their own game, Han took a moment to look at Minho in disbelief, “I can’t believe you just won that game by yourself,”

“Told you we wouldn’t lose,” He winked, “But it would have been much quicker if my teammate spent more time watching the table and less time staring at my ass,” Minho smirked, shaking his hips,

Jisung flushed red all the way to his hairline, “I-I wasn’t,”

“Sung, you are very drunk and not very subtle,” Minho reached up and pinched Jisung’s cheek, “But it’s okay because I like your cheeks too,” Then he smacked him on the ass and winked again, “You know the ones I’m talking about,”

Jisung coughed, face growing a darker shade.

When he finally regained enough composure he squealed, “You’re more drunk than I am!”

“Yeah, and what of it?” Minho slung an arm over his shoulder, “So let’s make the most of it and do something fun.”

Jisung gulped. He didn’t know what _fun_ was, but he was pretty sure anything with drunk Minho in leather pants was dangerous. However, this didn’t stop him from letting Minho pull him back into the house and the sea of writhing bodies until they ended up on one of the dancefloors.

. . .

The next hour was daze in Jisung’s memory. He knew there was a lot of dancing and at some point, he fell on his ass. The bruise he found on his thigh the next day confirmed as much. He also knew that he didn’t leave Minho’s side the whole time, the two of them dancing their way through each room of the house in fits of laughter.

Somehow, they found themselves in a large room with about twenty other people, most of them strangers. Hyunjin and Chan were there, both chatting with a few girls on the other side on the half-formed circle. Chan was looking a lot better than he did when they left him, some of the alcohol had worn off for him as it had for Jisung.

As the circle slowly formed, Jisung was thinking he didn't know how he let Minho talk him into this.

Well, actually he did. He was still borderline drunk, and Minho’s eyes were too dazzling when his long lashes fluttered.

But he also didn’t think people actually played this game in real life. However, there they were, gathered in a messy circle with an empty bottle in the centre. The elder had stated something about getting Jisung back on his game and he really wasn’t sure how kissing a stranger would help that, but he was too buzzed to truly care right then.

“This is stupid,” Jisung mumbled as he watched the first girl spin the bottle,

“It’ll be fun,” Minho laughed as the first kiss was made, the girl shyly pecking the chosen boy on the lips, “Besides, the circle is heavily weighted in your favour,”

Jisung cocked his head,

Minho gave him a look, shaking his head at the other’s obliviousness, “As much as I enjoy any kiss this circle doesn’t really spark my interest,”

“Oh,” Jisung looked at the circle again and realised two-thirds of it was female, “Wait. I thought this was a game to pair up guys with girls?”

Minho looked at him in disbelief, “Babe, you are in for a rude awaking to party life.”

He turned back to watch as the next girl in the circle spun the bottle only for it to land on another girl opposite. The first girl blushed deeply but nonetheless scooted closer. A moment of hesitation filled the circle with silence before the chosen girl leant in and started a fiery kiss. The voyeurs hollered at the two as they kissed for longer than the game deemed necessary, but if the cheers meant anything the crowd was liking the show.

Jisung couldn’t look away.

His cheeks were flushed, and he was starting to worry what the hell he had signed up for.

But another part of him, a very small part, was also aroused.

“Like what you see?”

Minho’s voice in his ear and made Jisung flinch, he turned his eyes away from the two girls and looked at the boy next to him. Minho was smirking. Again.

He winked playfully at Jisung, “Didn’t realise you were into that sort of thing,”

“I’m not!” He exclaimed a bit too quickly, causing Minho to giggle,

"I thought I already told you, you're not that subtle while drunk,"

"Shut up."

Minho laughed again.

The game continued with lots of laughing and blushing and some couples choosing to leave the circle entirely with their kiss, only for others to join and take their place.

Halfway around the circle and the bottle hadn’t landed on either Jisung or Minho yet. Chan and Hyunjin both had had their turns. Chan kissed a girl so sweetly and so very Chan with a caress to her chin, whispering something in her ear that made her blush. It had Han hiding behind his hands cringing. Hyunjin was aggressive, meeting the girl in a passionate kiss that left her gasping for air, while he smirked playfully and sat back in his spot.

Chan also had the bottle land on him by a shy girl who chose to give him a peck on the cheek instead. It was met with a couple of cries of displeasure from the crowd. That was shut up real quick by Chan though, stating people were welcome to kiss whatever way they were comfortable with and that they could take it up with him if they didn’t like how he played the game. No one challenged him at that and Jisung felt a sigh of relief wash through him since he did have a sort-of out if he really didn’t want to follow through with his turn. Although, looking around the circle, he realised the girls – and even the guys – were easy on the eyes and maybe a kiss with one of them wouldn’t be so bad.

Only two more people had to spin before it was Minho’s turn, Jisung right after. The girl up was a dancer from their university, if Jisung remembered correctly, recalling seeing her face in the studio when he’d visited Minho a couple of times. He wondered absentmindedly if they knew each other. It was answered immediately when she spun the bottle and it started to slow right in front of him, only just pointing to his right. Directly at Minho.

He turned to her and winked, pouting his lips. Jisung huffed because if he winked anymore that night people would think he had a tic.

“Of course, I’d get you,” The girl laughed accusingly, “All these possibilities and I get your flirty ass,”

Minho shrugged, “I’s a nice ass,”

She rolled her eyes, “Shut up and let me kiss you, Minho,”

“Better make it good,” He winked again,

“Ha, I think you’re the one that needs to live up to your sexy performer title,”

“If you insist,” He bit his lip suggestively and got up onto his knees as she came closer.

Jisung got a front-row seat as they kissed, and he couldn’t look away again. He was sure he was gawking with his mouth wide open, but he felt a twinge of something again. Jealousy? No. it couldn’t be. Minho was his friend.

And gay.

And he definitely, one hundred percent was not crushing on his friend.

He just didn’t like the familiarity the two had. That was it. He kept telling himself that was it.

Because _he_ was Minho’s one and only best friend.

Finally, they broke apart and she ran a finger across her lip, “Not bad, for a boy,”

“Yeah, yeah,” Minho laughed, “I know I’m not your type, but this dick isn’t going anywhere.”

“Such a shame, we could have some fun if it did,”

Both of them laughed as she made her way back to her spot and Jisung’s eyes widened in realisation that she must be gay too. He thought that might have made him feel better about the kiss, but it really didn’t. It was just another fact they had in common.

It was greedy, but Jisung didn’t want to share. They were bonded in a way that had made him want to keep Minho all to himself as of late. The desire to be by his side all the time was almost a crushing weight.

Jisung didn’t even see the next kiss because he was too busy pouting, and then finally, Minho’s turn was up. He flicked the bottle without any hesitancy. It spun a few times before slowing down and landing on a stranger across the room.

The circle started hollering again as they realised this was the first male to male pairing. Minho gave the dude an exaggerated wink and blew a kiss, the guy blanched. Chan guffawed from his spot across the circle. A knowing smile on his face.

Yes, Minho was awkward and little soulless in the way he acted sometimes, but damn if he wasn’t flashy.

“You going to put on a good show for us now?” One of the girls called, Jisung realised it was one of the girls from that first make-out that had everyone quaking.

“I always play to win,” Minho said with a spark in his eye, far from his usual giggly self and Jisung saw the poor dude across the circle visibly gulp.

Minho stalked across the room and grabbed the boy’s collar, kissing with the same aggression Hyunjin had used on the girl previously. Squeals filled the circle as the girls shouted in delight. The boy resisted for only a moment before melting under Minho’s touch.

Jisung gawked from his spot.

Minho was gay. He knew this. And this was a stupid party game so something like this was bound to happen. But he realised that as unbelievably hot as watching Minho make out with this guy was, Jisung again did not like the queasy possessive feeling in his stomach that followed.

It was even stronger this time.

After a brief few seconds Minho pulled back, leaving the stranger ogling in disbelief.

“Thanks for indulging them,” Minho told the boy, gesturing to the crowd, before releasing his grip and moving back to his seat,

Jisung was only just starting to realise drunk Minho was a bit of a hoe.

He didn’t have time to ponder because his turn was next. Jisung crept to the middle of the circle and carefully spun the bottle, he felt his palms sweating nervously. As the bottle began to slow down, his heart began to race.

After what felt like forever the bottle came to a stop.

Jisung’s eyes blew comically wide, Hyunjin wolf-whistled from across the circle and Chan had the most shit-eating grin upon his face.

“Lucky bitch.” The same female dancer called in his direction, “Probability says I should have kissed one girl by now and yet here you are defying all odds in having to kiss three people already, and two of them were boys!”

The comment wasn’t directed at him.

It was for who Jisung had chosen with the bottle, who was indeed a boy.

Except, not just any boy.

No.

Jisung had the honour of kissing Minho.

He glanced at the man behind him, Minho with his same lazy smile slowly slipping from his face as he seemed to realise he was about to be kissed by Jisung. His face was bare of bravado, showing his surprise for only a split second before a different feigned cocky smile filled his features.

Minho sat up straight as Han shuffled back in front of him.

He was unsure of what to do. This close to Minho, with his objective in mind, had his breath a little shallow, and the way Minho’s eyes were watching expectantly didn’t help calm his fiery nerves.

Fuck, he was drunk. But not drunk enough for this.

He was still sober enough to see the constellations swirling in Minho’s dark eyes. He could see the flutter of his eyelids as his contacts bothered him, the action drawing attention to his thick eyelashes. And maybe Jisung was actually very drunk because he could imagine being drawn into those pools of darkness, drifting off to space in a weightless ecstasy.

The thumping of his heart seemed to think that was a good plan.

After a couple of seconds of Han just staring, Minho seemed to grow more confident after recognising Jisung’s hesitation. He leant forward until his mouth was precariously close. Over the alcohol on his breath, Jisung could still smell that familiar fruity scent. Minho’s lips had curled into a sweet smirk and his words were laced with something dangerous as he said so lowly that only Jisung could hear, “Not interested in a kiss from me? That’s upsetting because you seemed to enjoy the show I put on for you so far.”

Jisung froze. He was angry at the fact Minho had used his cherry lip balm tonight – those smirking lips still stained a devilish red. He couldn’t stop his eyes from flicking down to stare at them, one side curled higher than the other.

Was it wrong that he wanted to kiss Minho?

Like, a lot.

Like an almost all-consuming desire that made his head spin more than the alcohol ever could.

The smirk grew.

“Or maybe you are just afraid of what this mouth can do?”

Jisung recognised it for what it was – a dare.

So, his eyes met Minho’s because he never backed down from a challenge between them and if this was a test he was going to pass with flying colours.

But he also knew Minho.

And when they locked eyes, he could see the way his pupils flickered to the side and his smile wavered ever slightly.

Behind that leer, he had the same fears twisting his gut that were bubbling in Han’s.

A thought occurred to Jisung that maybe Minho was going to be just as affected by a kiss between them as he was, but he didn’t have time to muse on that thought because the circle was getting restless, calling on him to hurry up.

Without stalling any longer, he swallowed the butterflies dancing up from his stomach, closed his eyes and leant forward.

****

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fitting chapter because after the insta updates from japan you cannot tell me Minho is not a wild (and therefore probably flirty) drunk. 
> 
> Also, eww, cliché spin the bottle trope. But it was far easier to write than ‘Piccolo’ if any of yall know the drinking game app, which is the usual go to game for where I am from.
> 
> Thank as always for the support ^-^


	11. Tremble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is trembling fingers that trace your cheek, breath shallow and nerves on fire, hyperaware; of the sound of the party outside, the cold wall at your back and the warmth radiating off the man pinning you to it.

Let it be said, that Han Jisung was a coward.

This was a well-known fact.

But it didn’t make him feel any less pathetic as he leant forward and delicately brushed his lips against Minho’s cheek.

For Minho was right, Jisung was afraid of what his mouth could do.

Despite the part of him that was begging to discover what Minho tasted like, the much more vocal part of him had won. The part that said things were better off left unknown, where friends were strictly thought of as friends and there were no experiences to have his mind fantasising otherwise. So, this meant he had baulked at the last second, veering to the left to kiss Minho on the cheek instead.

He had lost.

He knew it.

Although when he withdrew, ignoring the disgruntled sounds from the crowd, the smile on Minho’s face wasn’t victorious. His expression was strangely blank. That was somehow worse than the arrogant smile he expected to see. When they locked eyes, Minho’s expression was still unreadable.

Jisung didn’t like that.

As much as Minho kept to himself, Han liked to think he was pretty good at deciphering what the other was thinking. Now though, he was getting nothing from the glassy look in his eyes, cheeks still flushed from the alcohol and mouth pressed into a thin line.

Jisung had nothing to say to defend himself as he moved back to his spot. He disregarded the disappointed murmur around him and Hyunjin mouthing something that looked suspiciously like the word, _pussy_, in his direction. Chan had an almost pained calculating look on his face, eyes darting between the two of them – or he was just about to throw up, again. Han wondered if he knew what had upset Minho because something certainly had if his silence was any indication. He should have been claiming victory over their stupid unspoken bet and been rubbing Han’s cowardice in his face. Instead, he looked sort of deflated.

The playful atmosphere between them vanished and Jisung was left sitting in confused silence. When Minho was sulking, Jisung couldn’t help but find himself upset too, as if their emotions were linked.

The game continued.

Although after that moment, neither of the boys were really feeling into the game anymore and were thankful when the crowd grew restless and began to disperse, leaving the empty bottle discarded in the middle of the room.

Han never had another kiss.

The air was still odd between them, sitting side by side, the only ones left from the circle. Jisung wanted to move, but he couldn’t find it in him to leave Minho’s side. He still didn’t know what had upset Minho. Jisung had kissed him like that before on his birthday and other occasions. Yeah, the other always pushed him away and acted like he’d been contaminated by Jisung’s mouth, but there was no malicious intent behind it. Why would it be any different this time? So, he concluded it wasn’t the kiss, but some part of him couldn’t shake the feeling that Minho was upset because of him.

Jisung ignored the guilty feeling in his stomach and reached over to poke Minho on the arm, “I’m hungry,” He pouted, looking up at the elder with imploring doe-eyes, “Did you want to find something to eat with me?”

As quickly as it came, the awkward silence was broken. Minho turned to him and Jisung watched as the dark emotion left his eyes and his lazy smile slid back across his face. The tension between them had dissolved once again and Minho nodded, picking himself off the ground and pulling Jisung up too.

That’s just the way it was between them. Both of them experienced emotions wildly and all-consuming. But they could also switch moods at the drop of a hat. They fed off the feelings of the other in an all-or-nothing way. It was part of what made them so close. They were always fuelled by the other in an addictive and familiar way.

When they fought it was an explosive undertaking that boiled all the way to their core, with hateful words and flying objects. Although that rage never lasted long, soon all animosity was forgotten and one of them would come sullenly back to the other, offering an arm until they were entwined in a forgiving hug.

When one was upset the other held him in a comforting embracing, making jokes until there was a smile on both their faces. This happened most. Both of them known for being moody and melodramatic amongst their friends, rivalling Hyunjin in that aspect.

No one could rile Jisung up and calm him down in the way Minho could, the reverse also being true. Jisung liked that about them. He found life with Minho made a thrum run through his veins and he was lying if he said he wasn’t hooked on it.

They found a semi-secluded bench along one of the many hallways, people still streamed back and forth between the different party rooms, but no one stuck in the corridor long enough to bother them. They sat cross-legged facing each other, knees touching with a pizza box balanced over both their laps. The pizza had grown cold the few hours it had sitting out, but both boys thought it tasted like heaven in their starving drunken state. They had also procured another bottle, this bottle filled with something brown and something strong.

“Pizza is the best fast food to ever exist,” Minho proclaimed, slurping up the long trail of cheese stretching out from his bite,

Jisung agreed, both cheeks inflated, “It’s pretty good.”

“You can’t tell me after a long night of drinking there’s something you want more than a bite of disgustingly greasy cheese-topped doughy goodness.”

“Of course, there is! You obviously haven’t ever had cheesecake while drunk.”

Minho rolled his eyes and tch-ed, “I forgot you’re a whore for cheesecake,”

“As if you’re not a pizza hoe,”

“But I don’t deny my hoe,” Minho wriggled his eyebrows, “It’s even in my name.”

Jisung snorted, “Loser.”

Minho giggled.

Jisung would never get sick of that sound and the way it made his chest flutter. There was something just right about the way it echoed in his head.

After a moment, Han spoke up again, “You going to tell me why you started sulking on me tonight?”

“Nah.” Minho grabbed the bottle and took a swig, wincing at the burn, “It was stupid and I’m over it. It shouldn’t have even got to me in the first place, but you know,” He waved the bottle, “Alcohol and all that shit.”

Han pursed his lips and regarded the shifting of Minho’s eyes, the elder refusing to look at him, “Sounds like a cop-out but okay.” He let the matter drop.

It wasn’t long before the box was empty between them, not even a crust in sight. They were lazily passing the bottle back and forth.

Minho stretched out, leaning back on the bench with one arm behind him and the other on his stomach. “Do you know what I really want right now?”

“What?” Han hummed swallowing his last mouthful,

“A smoothie. But not just any smoothie. One from that beach café. Best smoothies I’ve ever had.”

Jisung smiled. He remembered the smoothie – and the beach day to go with it – fondly.

Chan had dragged them out together one weekend they all managed to get off work and study. Minho had protested going and it was only when he was standing at the water’s edge, toes just touching the water while the others had run into the waves, that he admitted he didn’t know how to swim. Being brutally honest, Jisung found it hilarious because they all proceeded to grab Minho by his limbs and toss him in the ocean, the boy shrieking the whole time as he splashed into a foot of water. After the amusement died down though the boys had taken turns helping him wade out into the deeper water and it ended up being one of their best group outings, even after a massive wave wiped Jisung out with Minho balanced precariously on his shoulders. The younger came up coughing out saltwater, his heart immediately tightened, but not with worry for himself, he turned looking for Minho only to see the elder with the biggest grin on his face, laughing so hard he was shaking as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. The day ended with all of them eating at the café along the waterfront, ordering one of each the various flavoured smoothies and sharing them amongst each other. It was one of the happiest memories of Jisung’s university life.

“I don’t think fruity milk would be a good mix with all the alcohol I’ve seen you consume tonight,” Han laughed, taking a sip of the bottle for himself,

“True.” Minho shrugged, “Wouldn’t stop me drinking ten of them right now if I could though.”

Han laughed, shaking his head in exasperation, “You know what I want?”

Minho smirked and Jisung could see him opening his mouth to say something snappy and he quickly cut him off,

“Besides cheesecake.”

The earnt him another chuckle from Minho.

They spent the next half hour talking back and forth about what they could eat if they could have had anything right then. Then it morphed into them talking about what they wanted to do over the end of the year holidays. Then to what superpower they wanted. It was stupid but it entertained them. Soon the bottle was empty too and even though both knew they didn’t need anything else to drink, the pleasant buzz that cemented over them was sort of peaceful. By the end they were both laughing so hard there were tears streaming down Jisung’s face and when he fell forward, he knocked his head with Minho, throwing them into another fit of giggles.

Once the laughter had died down, the mood was still outrageously silly between them, Jisung said lowly, “There was something else I wanted tonight.” He paused, eyes glancing quickly at Minho’s, “But it’s weird.”

“You are talking to the weird king here.”

Han turned his head away, watching a couple run down the hall holding hands, “I don’t know. It’s pretty out there, even for us.”

“Try me.” Minho encouraged, “Nothing you could say is strange to me anymore.”

“If you say so,” Jisung bit his lip, hesitating before asking, “Is it weird that I wanted to kiss you back in that circle?”

Minho’s eyes trailed Jisung’s lip caught between his teeth, he shrugged, “I don’t know,” His eyes darted up, nervously locking with Jisung’s before returning down, “Depends if you think I’m weird for wanting you to kiss me.”

Jisung’s heart thumped. Once. Twice. A thought tingled with amusement in his head. Despite him wanting to tease Minho, he asked seriously, “Is that why you started sulking?”

Minho shrugged again, refusing to look up,

“Can I kiss you now?” The question was out before he could stop it.

Minho swallowed harshly, licking his lips and looking up at Jisung through his thick lashes. He nodded slowly.

Jisung surged forward, too late the back down now. It was clumsy and eager and obviously inspired by the alcohol in his system. Minho stopped Han with both hands on his shoulders, looking around sheepishly, whispering loudly, “Maybe we should go somewhere else though. Too many people here. We’re not in a game anymore and I don’t want them to get the wrong idea about you.”

Jisung nodded, not really understanding but giddy with the thought of kissing Minho. He locked his fingers with Minho’s. The elder's hand tightened on his and the pizza box fell to the ground with a light thud as Minho stood up, pulling Jisung with him.

. . .

Jisung followed Minho once again. He’d been trailing after him all night, back and forth through the crowded house in an alcohol-induced daze.

So why did this time have his heartbeat racing?

Minho led them away from the ruckus outside and away from the mass of people inside. Both equally as inebriated as the last time Minho dragged them through the party, and this time there was no skip to Minho’s step, instead, there was quiet desperation.

They made their way through Felix’s house silently, Minho never letting up on his grip on Jisung’s hand. No words were shared as he focused on his mission, knocking on a few occupied rooms before finding a door with no response beyond. Peeking inside, he found an empty sitting room. The lights were off, but the blinds were open. The party outside shined a faint glow through the sheer lace curtains, casting eerie bouncing shadows throughout the room.

Minho dragged Jisung inside and shut the door behind him.

Now alone, Han could feel the bravado slip from both of them when Minho turned to face him, trapping him against the wall.

It hit him again like a tidal wave.

That tension that had been growing between them, expanding with every sideways glance and every tease. That feeling that was suffocating him every time they touched, making his heart roll in his chest and his breath catch. He could feel it threatening to overflow now, bursting out in a reckless surge with the way Minho’s eyes were watching him, big and glassy in the dim light.

He hoped Minho could feel it too.

But the way Minho’s eyes were pools of darkness, his lips bitten red with worry as he hovered dangerously close, turmoil waring behind those irises, was answer enough for Jisung.

He _could_ feel it too.

It left them breathless and dizzy, only doubled by the alcohol.

After what felt like hours had passed – but what could have only been a couple of seconds – of them looking at each other in another stalemate – another dare – Minho moved first.

He always had more courage.

He stepped forward and Jisung couldn’t help moving back uncertainly, only making it one step before his shoulder blades hit the wall behind him and he couldn’t shrink any further from the man in front of him.

Minho’s fingers were trembling as he reached up and pushed a stray piece of hair behind Jisung’s ear, letting his fingertips trace down full flushed cheeks. Minho’s heart was racing, and he could barely hear the bass thumping outside over the blood rushing through his ears. His breath was coming out in shallow pants and his hair was standing on end. He was so enrapt by the blush on the younger’s cheeks, with eyes wide and lips parted, that he hadn’t realised that Jisung’s body was just on fire as his own, nerves alight as his breath hitched at the feel of Minho’s hand cupping his face.

Jisung’s own hands were shaking just as hard where they were hanging uselessly at his sides. His pupils dilated from both the alcohol and that primal longing, daring Minho to make another move.

It was a test of who would break first, perfectly depicting their relationship for what it was, a push and pull of affection and torment.

The room was sweltering and Jisung thought he might pass out if he didn’t take a deep breath soon. His tongue poked out unconsciously, wetting his full bottom lip in crushing anticipation.

The dam finally broke.

Months of confusion. Weeks of denial. Days of pining. It was all forgotten through a silent dare that cracked the walls they’d built up between them – one made of jokes of rejection – until that tidal wave of desire was free, encompassing them in a need that was almost painful. 

Space closed between them, Jisung wasn’t sure if it was Minho or himself that moved. All he could tell was that Minho’s shaking fingers were at his jaw again, pulling his chin up as the distance between their lips grew non-existent.

The first touch was feather-light, just a whisper of a kiss, and yet it still ignited a craving in Jisung that he hadn’t felt before. The touch had him hyperaware; of the sound of the party outside, the cold wall at his back and the warmth radiating off Minho pinning him to it. It propelled him into an alcohol-induced lust at the faint taste of cherry left on his lower lip. His hands found their way into Minho’s hair, tugging gently but insistent as a sharp sound he was certainly not proud of escaped his throat.

Han used his new leverage to push forward this time, connecting their lips firmly, earning a faint gasp from Minho. Minho’s hands fell from Jisung’s face, sliding around to settle on his waist as he took the opportunity to pull Jisung close, pressing their bodies together.

Jisung moved their mouths together gently, daring to go further and apply little open-mouthed bites as he gently sucked on Minho’s lower lip. The elder’s response was to moan gently, his hands slid down Jisung’s hips until they slipped into the back pockets of his tight jeans, pulling Han impossibly tighter against him.

It was odd. Jisung often had the others smack his backside in a playful manner, and he would usually return the favour. Jiwon had also complimented his butt when they were together. But no one had ever actually groped him. And fuck, it was exhilarating. Minho’s hands on him, snug against the curve of his ass, digging into the flesh to pull him closer earnt a stutter in his chest.

In return, the hands in Minho’s hair tugged harder until he tilted his head back with an open-mouthed whine and Jisung took the opportunity to slip in his tongue.

That was a mistake.

Because the second it contacted Minho’s, he lost any of the leverage he had and was pressed harshly back into the wall, his body crushed delightfully between the cool plaster and the warm, solid form of Minho.

Minho’s mouth was possessive and gentle all at once. He couldn’t get over the sensation as their tongues moved together in a hesitant way, teasing touches as they tried out what the other liked until they felt comfortable together. Then the kiss devolved into something messy and frantic. The months of tension had materialised in a desperate longing to _touch_ and _taste_ and _hear_ more.

Jisung found his hands wandering all over Minho’s body, tracing each and every curve he knew all too well, although now appreciating them in a different way. Jisung was used to the soft shapes and gentle touch of a girl. Even in his roughest experimenting in the past, nothing quite compared; to the strength in Minho’s arms, biceps tense where they pulled at Jisung’s waist and to the solid muscle that made up his chest.

So, it was odd making out with a guy.

But Jisung was okay with that.

He was okay with the way his back arched in chaotic need, pressing himself against Minho with just as much strength as the other was pulling him. He was okay with the force that had him stretching up on his tiptoes to reach every bit of Minho’s mouth that he could.

He was especially okay when Minho pulled back from the kiss, his teeth tugging gently at Jisung’s lower lip, only to trail kisses along his jaw and to his neck, drawing a long whine from Han who leant his head back against the wall, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed harshly, desperately sucking in air.

Was it horribly weak of him that when Minho bit harshly at the junction of his neck and shoulder that he cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain, eyes flying open and legs trembling?

The shudder must have been obvious too, because Minho withdrew with a hungry smirk on his face and Jisung complained, feeling bereft of his touch before Minho grabbed his hand and pulled him along on his shaky legs.

Minho led them to the couch in the centre of the room, and he nudged Jisung to sit back, clambering up after him. He was surprisingly gentle as he pressed Jisung back onto the furniture, making sure he didn’t knock his head on the armrest as he settled between the younger’s legs. He pulled both of Han’s legs firmly around his waist, sinking down until their bodies were pressed entirely together. The sensation made Jisung groan and shudder again.

His eyes widened momentarily in surprise, usually whenever he found himself in a situation like this he was in Minho’s position. It was strangely satisfying this way though. He liked the release of control, entrusting Minho as he opened up to him in a newly vulnerable way. He especially loved the way he felt small and delicate in Minho’s arms, looking up with his wide brown eyes at the hungry want reflected in the dancer’s stare.

“Is this okay?” Minho asked, voice a little breathless as he regarded the shock he saw on Han’s face.

Jisung hummed, not trusting his voice, instead, encouraging with a squeeze of his legs around Minho’s waist and locking hands behind his head.

Minho nodded in acknowledgement and slotted his lips back to Jisung’s, leading them in a slower kiss than the one against the wall. Although, this one was almost worse because it made Jisung feel weightless and loved all these emotions he wasn’t sure he should be feeling. His heart had been pounding the whole time and he knew he shouldn’t be so affected by a kiss but his whole body was on fire.

Minho left trails of heat along Jisung’s bare skin where his hand had slipped under his shirt, thumbing lightly at his sides and brushing across his stomach. The touch had Jisung squirming and murmuring under him, scratching his fingers into Minho’s scalp until he elicited a low hiss.

They writhed together on the couch in an unending daze of tongue and teeth on skin.

At one-point Minho pulled back just to catch his breath, and Jisung took a moment to look up into his eyes, surprised by the desire and pain he saw swirling together behind his irises, a crease forming across Minho’s brow. He wondered what Minho saw looking back into his eyes. Did he see the matching want? Or was there something else clouding his eyes the way that pained expression had engulfed the need in Minho’s?

He didn’t give Minho a chance to say anything, instead pulled him back down and connected their lips once more. He felt the tension leave Minho’s face and hoped he’d kissed away that hurt look too. He put his everything into that kiss, drowning in the feel of Minho while he could, praying they could stay in that moment, wrapped together forever.

But all good things come to an end.

Abruptly, the door clicked open and someone stumbled through the archway. Minho jolted, stretching out to cover Jisung as much as possible. Jisung shrunk under his arms while the elder kept his back towards the door.

“Sorry, didn’t realise this room was taken.” The intruder mumbled, glimpsing two people pressed against the couch, his words slurred such that they were almost incomprehensible.

Though the deep voice and strange accent were unmistakable.

Felix.

They heard shuffling footsteps as the blond stumbled back out, pulling the door shut with a female voice tittering along behind him.

But the moment was gone.

Jisung’s eyes were comically wide as they shifted back and forth between the doorway and Minho’s face. With the lust haze gone from his mind, he was shamefully aware of how hard he was, his hips still pressed firmly to Minho’s in way that he had doubt Minho could tell it too. He made a short whining sound, and with a firm push to Minho’s shoulder, he slipped out of their embrace and darted towards the door, trying to discretely adjust his jeans as he disappeared down the hallway without a word.

The faint _click_ as the door shut on Han’s retreating figure was the rude awakening Minho needed to snap him out of his daze.

He rolled onto his back on the couch, closing his eyes and letting the steady bass from outside calm him until the wave of adrenalin passed and his heart rate returned to his natural speed. He had one hand to his temple and the other dangling off the couch.

Minho was positive that that was the best kiss he’d had in his life.

But.

Jisung was his infuriatingly flirty, irritatingly straight friend.

So, he was also positive he had just screwed up his closest friendship.

Minho let out a groan and curled into himself on the couch, content to stay there for the rest of his useless life.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo! So, finally – finally! – our boys kissed. I know I left yall hanging in the last chapter and I just had to drag it on a little longer at the start of this…. But there you go, a couple thousand words of minsung make-out ^^
> 
> But as you can see, Jisung is still a little bit of a bitch . . . So, it’s not quite smooth sailing on the s.s. Minsung yet.
> 
> Now, real talk for a minute though. I think this is the point where I should clarify if you haven’t already realised by the prologue and the tags that things are about to get a bit smutty in upcoming chapters. As I said, I’m not familiar with AO3 as an author so please let me know if this should be higher rated because I was very confused about the difference between M and E. I don’t want to upset anyone or make them feel uncomfortable with the smut, I swear it’s real vanilla shit, but I know not everyone is keen on reading the nasty. So yeah. Just a warning and a plead to not lynch me if I’m in the wrong rating as I can easily change that.
> 
> Thanks again! ^-^


	12. Trepidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is apprehension and uncertainty, but you are ready to swan dive into the unknown.

Jisung didn’t see much of anyone over the holidays. Everyone was too busy spending time with their families back home or picking up insane holiday hours at work. He met up with a couple of the boys here and there, but he was quite content working himself into an early grave to keep his mind occupied. Although that didn’t always work. Minho continuously filled his head and he found himself getting worked up with anger and uncertainty. His friend had been conveniently busy every time he messaged in the group chat to see who was free to hang, and after the party they’d barely messaged at all, Minho attributing it to family and work.

Jisung couldn’t blame him.

He knew he had done a shitty thing. Ghosting from the party that is. After he’d left Minho behind in the sitting room, he had been running around the house in disarray until he ran into Chan and Woojin. The two elder boys had seen his frantic state and helped get him into an uber home, worried smiles on their faces the whole time. He didn’t tell them why he was anxious and restless. His mind was too busy processing the touch and taste of Minho, questioning why a big part of him wanted to run back to that room and do _more_. He simply mumbled he was okay to his friends – even though everyone could see it was a lie – and the second he was home he slipped out of his clothes and into bed.

The next morning, he woke up very, very hungover. And he hated the perfect look of Hyunjin’s face when he came into the room to check up on his housemate, saying goodbye and warning Jisung not to burn the house down in his absence. Jisung actually growled at him and rolled back over in bed, only a little guilty about not giving him a proper farewell. As the day continued, he was able to drag himself out of bed. After a shower and food, he decided he was able to function again, pushing the thoughts of the previous night as far from his mind as he could for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, by the time the new year started Jisung had had too much time by himself to think. He knew he had to get Minho alone to talk. But that was easier said than done seeing as the first time he finally saw him again was after the holidays during the first lunch of the new semester. It was odd, not having Woojin’s presence at the table, but Felix’s chaotic energy helped fill in the loss.

When Minho approached the table, Jisung’s eyes immediately landed on him and his chest tightened, the elder sensing it too, looking up and locking eyes. The moment was quickly broken when Hyunjin came running up to him, breaking the line of contact.

“You know the last time I saw you was at Felix’s party. You too busy to spend time with your friends now you’re a fancy honours student?” Hyunjin hugged Minho.

“You know I went to see my family, and when I got back, I picked up so many hours at the restaurant.”

“Yeah, yeah. Excuses, excuses. I thought for sure Jisung would drag you around at some point for a movie night.” Hyunjin finished by fake crying as he ushered him to the table, “You just didn’t want to spend time with us.”

“For good reason,” Minho rolled his eyes and took a seat.

Across the table, Felix coughed conspicuously and smirked, “I think I know why you didn’t have time for us,”

Minho turned to him, his head cocked to the side in question.

“I saw you at the party,” Felix raised his eyebrows in a knowing way and Minho’s stomach dropped, “And yes, I was plastered at the time. But it was definitely you.”

“Yeah? We were all hammered, what’s your point?”

Felix waggled his eyebrows at the rest of the table, “I saw our soulless friend here getting ready to dick someone down.”

Jisung coughed on his drink and Minho’s mouth dropped open. Both of them assumed Felix was too drunk to remember seeing anything. He hadn’t brought it up to either of them over the holidays, so they’d easily believed he had no idea who it was that night.

Obviously, they were wrong.

Chan smacked Felix’s head while laughing protesting that that was a nasty way to say it. The rest of the table gasped exaggeratedly.

“Who?” Changbin stammered, looking to Minho.

Minho’s eyes flashed with fear and he saw as realisation dawned, then regret filled Changbin’s features. Under all their scrutiny Minho turned beet red. He snuck a glance to Jisung, who was just as red, although no one had noticed because all eyes were on Minho.

Han’s heart was racing, he was paralysed in his seat.

“I don’t know, man. I didn’t see who it was,” Felix pointed accusingly at Minho, “But I definitely saw something funky going on, on my mum’s favourite couch even.”

Jisung visibly deflated. His eyes were still pleading at Minho though. The elder nodded almost imperceptibly, knowing Jisung would understand that it meant he would not tell and call him out in front of everyone like that.

“Like you weren’t planning on doing the exact same thing!” Minho protested,

“Ah-huh!” Hyunjin jumped up, “So there was someone!”

Minho rolled his eyes again, scowling at the younger dancer, “I never said there wasn’t”

“Then who was it?”

Jisung could see the panic that quickly crossed Minho’s eyes. Just because Felix didn’t know who it was and that it was a man didn’t mean Minho felt any less put on the spot to come out. Before Han could do anything, Chan leant over and put a hand on Minho’s arm, saying quietly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Changbin nodded in agreement and Hyunjin and Felix looked at the three eldest in confusion.

Minho shook his head, “No. I think it’s time.”

His eyes sought out Jisung’s, seeking the comfort he always found there, but then he remembered the events of three months ago and quickly turned away.

Minho spun to face Hyunjin and Felix, “The others already know, so I think it’s about time I come out with you guys too.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened but he didn’t say anything.

Fuck it. “I am gay.”

“Oh,” Felix whispered,

“Called it,” Hyunjin punched the youngest’s arm.

Well, they weren’t calling him a fag so that was a good sign.

“The guy was just some random.” Minho continued, “We kissed during spin the bottle and things grew from there. Never got a name. Haven’t seen him since.”

Half of what Minho said was true anyway, helping cement the part that was a lie. Yet, it didn’t help the worry that still twisted in Jisung’s gut.

“Now that’s out of the way, let’s pretend that you think of me no differently,”

“But we don’t think any differently.” Felix smiled broadly, and Minho was reminded again why they called him the sun.

Hyunjin spoke up next, “Yeah, bro. Trust me when I say there is no judgement here.”

And so, lunch continued as if Minho hadn’t just laid his soul to bare to the last of his friends. It was oddly calming, knowing they all knew and didn’t care. But then he looked at Jisung again and anxiety immediately filled his core.

He had avoided Jisung for long enough. He knew deep down they had to talk. Just, not right now.

. . .

That evening Jisung was finally able to corner Minho in his room. He’d harassed Changbin earlier to get the information he needed. Minho wasn’t working that night and couldn’t reserve a spot in the dance studio. So, he was all alone in their shared room while Changbin was away recording by himself. That small sense of accomplishment didn’t help the apprehension tight over his heart as he stood in front of the dorm room. Jisung swallowed the fear, raised his fist and knocked.

He stood quietly for a few moments, heart racing in his chest before the door cracked open.

“Jisung?”

Claws latched around his throat at hearing Minho use his full name, still, Jisung managed a small greeting while he took in Minho’s form.

The dancer had recently been in the shower, his hair so characteristically combed back away from his face. He was wearing baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt. He looked so _normal_. But the sight still drove Jisung’s blood pressure through the roof. The last time they were this close alone together . . . Yeah. His heart was not okay.

It didn’t help that Minho was looking at him so intently with those dark eyes, swirling with the same pain he recalled from Felix’s party. Every moment of that night had been etched into Jisung’s memory. Not even the alcohol could dull the details of Minho’s lips on his.

It also didn’t help his heart that they were just standing there, awkwardly looking at each other, Jisung in the middle of the hall.

“Can I come in?”

“Ah. Yeah.” Minho snapped out of his stupor and pulled the door wider so Jisung could slip in, closing it behind him before slowly turning around to look at the younger, making no attempt to venture further into the room.

Jisung stood in the centre of a room he’d been in countless times. A room he felt just as comfortable in as his own. Today though, the vibe had him wringing his hands together nervously and toeing the carpet as he internally begged Minho to be the brave one again and speak up.

Turns out that Lee Minho was also a coward.

So, after another minute of silence, Jisung gave in and spoke up.

“We need to talk.”

Minho nodded weakly, pain creasing his brow again, “We do.”

“You’re avoiding me.”

Minho visibly cringed, “Am not.”

“Are too!” Jisung bristled, “It’s because of the kiss, right?”

Minho stayed silent.

“You’re going to have to talk to me about it at some point.”

“Yeah,” He sounded defeated, head low as he leaned against the door, “Can you just pretend it didn’t happen?”

Jisung pulled back in shock, “What?”

“Please just forget it happened.”

That grip around Jisung’s throat tightened again, choking up his words, “I can’t.”

“Please,” Minho looked at him with anguish in his eyes, “I shouldn’t have . . . We shouldn’t have . . . We were drunk and it was stupid, and I swear nothing has changed between us because of it.”

“Clearly it has if you keep avoiding me!” Jisung could feel anger start to build – as well as a horrible empty feeling.

The tone of his voice had made Minho shrink further and it made Jisung’s stomach drop when he whispered, “I’m sorry. It never should have happened.”

Jisung recognised the tightness in Minho’s voice, the strain as bad as his own and he could tell Minho was fighting tears as well. But that wasn’t what had the emptiness growing in him.

He was wrong.

All this time he’d been mulling over what had happened between them. He thought he figured it out. He thought he knew what they wanted. But he got it wrong.

Maybe it truly was a mistake to Minho.

Han choked on the lump in his throat, “I-I thought maybe . . .”

“I wasn’t trying to come onto you if that’s what you think,” Minho rubbed his neck awkwardly, pressing too hard as he used that pain to keep his voice steady, “I am really sorry. I know you’re not gay and I feel awful for taking advantage like that. A-and I just couldn’t face you after what-” He gulped, “What I did.”

“What _you_ did?”

As in singular. As in by himself. As in Jisung had no part in the shoving of tongues down each other’s throat.

Scratch what was said before. Lee Minho was not a coward. He was something else entirely.

Dumb.

Ass.

Jisung’s fists clenched at his sides, “You think I only kissed you because I was drunk?”

“Err yeah?”

Jisung was shaking with a fit of exasperated anger, “And you think because of that you took advantage of me?”

Minho nodded.

“Even after I was the one that asked to kiss you in the first place?”

He hesitantly nodded again.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I- What?”

“Fuck, I can’t believe this is actually happening.” Han shook his head, pacing around the room, he needed to be moving, he was going to lose his mind otherwise. His heart hadn’t stopped it’s panicked thumping since he reached Minho’s door. He stopped, turned to Minho and flung his arms about, “I kissed you because I think I fucking like you, you dumbass.”

Minho’s eyes widened and he took a step forward with his own frustration, “But you were drunk, _and_ you ran away!” He paused before adding with confusion across his face, “And I thought you were straight?”

“Well, I thought I was straight too!” Jisung let his voice grow louder than necessary, he was just unbelievably irritated right now, as well as being so fucking confused. He gestured between the two of them, “But here we are!”

Minho didn’t say anything else. He looked bewildered. Staring at Jisung’s wild eyes, watching while the younger breathed with increased effort.

“Well, say something!” Jisung yelled, shaking an arm at him, “Give me some sort of reaction!”

Minho flinched, “I-I don’t know . . . W-when?”

Jisung rolled his eyes, stomped to the side of the room and threw himself onto Minho’s bed, “As if I know.” He tried not to get swept up in the familiar smell of Minho’s sheets, opting to stare up at the ceiling. “I know I’ve always liked girls. I still do. They’re . . . hot.”

Minho cautiously moved forward and sat down on the desk chair beside the bed. His mind was still trying to process exactly what Jisung had just said.

“And I always thought dudes were hot too, but I thought it was in an ‘I can appreciate all the work you put into your body’ sort of thing and not a ‘please pin me against a wall’ sort of thing, you know? I thought it was just me being young and curious.”

Jisung’s voice was horribly shaky, so unlike his usual confident self as he stared blankly up at the white ceiling – a testament to how nervous he really was. He was always more talkative than usual when he was anxious. It made Minho want to run away because he was – again – not good at this shit.

“Like, how was I supposed to know?” Jisung’s waved his arms again before they fell limp at his sides. “This fucking society, man. I grew up with people constantly pairing me with girls until my mind just accepted it. Like, how was I supposed to figure it out?” Jisung turned his head to look Minho in the eyes, his own pleading – begging with everything he had – for Minho to understand. “I didn’t even realise it fully until you pushed me up against Felix’s wall. Fuck, man. I was so confused.” Jisung quickly looked away, he rolled over and curled into himself, whispering quietly, “How should I have known that getting kissed by you would excite more than fucking her ever did?”

Minho made a short spluttering sound at that.

“God, I am such an idiot.” Jisung pulled his knees to his chest, “I’m scared, Minho.” The adrenalin that had pushed him out of class and straight to Minho’s door had faded. Now he just felt exhausted. Emotional fatigue weighing on his body like lead.

Minho felt it as the walls he had reinforced over his heart throughout the holidays went crumbling down one by one. Jisung looked so small, curled up on the bed with his arms wrapped around himself. His fingers twitched where they rested on his leg, yearning to go over and run through Jisung’s hair.

“I was so, so confused. I just needed you to talk to,” Jisung continued. Minho could hear the tremble of his lip, “Even if it was you who made me feel like this, always on my mind night and day. I just thought you’d understand because it’s you. You’re my soulmate. And I thought you might feel the same way too.” Jisung sniffled, “But you left. You just went home without a word and that terrified me more than anything because I thought you hated that kiss. Or hated how I reacted. Or just straight-up hated me.”

Minho couldn’t move. He was stricken with fear and uncertainty that kept him in place.

“I know I did a shitty thing when I ran away. But I was just surprised about all this and I thought I needed to be alone to figure it out. But I didn’t. I realised if anyone could help me understand this then it was you.” Jisung broke off in a soft sob, “I needed you so much and you weren’t there.”

Minho felt his heart break.

All this time he believed he was helping Jisung by keeping his distance. He thought Jisung would hate him for the kiss. But he quickly recognised that was a lie he told himself. He knew how insecure Jisung could be, how too much of his bravado was just a façade to hide how he constantly compared himself with others. Minho should have known better. He should have figured it out sooner. Of course, Jisung would need reassurance after _that_. He knew the only person Jisung would be comfortable talking with was himself. But he was too busy being terrified over what that kiss had meant for his own feelings that he didn’t stop to think about how badly it would shock Jisung.

Deep down he knew that avoiding Jisung for the past few weeks had been for his own good, not Jisung’s.

But even with everything Jisung had said, he still couldn’t let himself believe it. He couldn’t trust those honest words. Because if Jisung was serious and did like him, then that was a whole new problem and too much hope to place on Minho’s fragile heart.

The sound of another of Jisung’s sobs shocked him into action.

Minho ignored his panic and hopped onto the bed, taking Jisung into his arms like he’d done so many times before. He was rudely reminded of the time he’d done this after Jiwon had broken Jisung’s heart.

Only this time it was him who had broken it.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, although he knew it wasn’t enough.

Han’s hands quickly found his biceps, digging just a little too tight, “Just hold me, please. It was so lonely with you gone.”

“I know. I’m here now. I-I won’t leave again.”

Minho’s fingers finally found their way into Jisung’s hair, brushing gently. He felt guilty for so many things. He felt guilty for making Jisung feel alone. He felt guilty for taking advantage and kissing him. But most importantly he felt guilty for loving his friend – loving him in a way that the other couldn’t fully comprehend. And he was so incredibly sorry that he had made Jisung hurt because of it.

Jisung was pulling his shirt so tight Minho thought he might rip it. His nose was pressed to Minho’s chest as he took deep, calming breaths. Then, once his sniffles died down, he wiped his eyes and pulled back, sitting upright. His face was hard as he stared at Minho, a new determination in his eyes.

“Tell me right now that you don’t feel _anything_ between us.”

Jisung had to ask. He had to know. He thought for sure that there had been something growing between them. He thought for sure that Minho might have, maybe, just a little bit, liked him back. But now Minho had him questioning everything he’d reasoned these holidays.

If Minho said no, then he could drop it. He knew in his heart that it wasn’t the alcohol that had pushed him to kiss Minho that night. But if the elder felt nothing, then their friendship was worth more than a couple more weeks of a broken heart while he got over it.

If he said yes though, Jisung didn’t know what that meant for them. He was still terrified by what he had learnt about himself. But he also knew Minho was worth fighting his dread. And if there was anyone who understood the confusion and fear about what he was going through, it was Minho.

“You know I can’t,” Minho said tightly,

Jisung shook his head in annoyance, “No, I don’t know. Because after the past three months I don’t think I know _you_ anymore.” Han needed a definite answer. Not. . . _that_. That was dangerous.

Minho swallowed harshly, retreating from Jisung and resting against the headboard, “Well I can’t, Jisung.”

The sting of hearing his full name burned again.

“I can’t tell you I don’t. But I can’t tell you I do.”

Jisung called him out, “That’s bullshit. You do feel it too. Why can’t you just admit it?”

Minho was silent because he knew why he couldn’t. Of course, he felt the overwhelming tension between them. But he also wasn’t insane enough to let himself be carried away with it. “Because if I said that I liked you back what would that mean?”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“If right now I said, ‘Han Jisung, I like you.’ Would that change anything? Would you- would you go out with me on an actual date? Would you hold my hand in public? Hug me? Because it took me years to get comfortable enough with who I am to be able to do that with other guys. I wouldn’t ask that of you. I couldn’t. But it’s what I want. It’s what I need in someone. But if you’re unsure, whether about me or your sexuality, then I can’t say that. I can’t say I like you because that makes this real and I can’t risk my heart for that.”

Jisung stilled. All this time all he could think about was what he felt and whether or not Minho liked him back. He never once had thought ahead about them. That’s why he needed Minho. Minho kept him grounded when his ideas led him into the clouds. Thinking about all that now, Minho was right. He wasn’t ready for all that. Not yet. And that thought made him guilt-ridden for pushing Minho into this situation.

But he couldn’t ignore those feelings either. Not when Minho was there. Ready to risk it all if he could just open himself up to the world.

Jisung reached out and took one of Minho’s hands between his. He gave it a squeeze until it drew Minho’s eyes to his.

Minho’s voice was incredibly soft as he asked, “What do you want from me, Sungie?”

Jisung took a deep breath, “Honestly, I don’t know what I want. I just know I like you. A lot. A-and I want to see if there’s something there. And I know you’re right. I’m not quite ready for the whole coming out thing. I don’t even know what I am, bi, I guess? But with you, maybe one day I could do it. And if not you’re still my soulmate and nothing could change that. But if I – we – don’t try _us_, how can I know?”

“Try us?”

Jisung nodded, “I’m not ready to tell anyone this. I’m just not. But I promise to work on it. Especially with your help on how you did it. And until then I would go to dinner with you,” His eyes turned down and a blush dusted his cheeks as he looked up through his lashes, his thumb brushing the back of Minho’s hand, “In a nonplatonic way. And I wouldn’t mind trying another kiss too.” His eyes focused on Minho’s lips again, “When it’s just us.”

Minho blinked slowly, his mouth parted. He swallowed dryly, “You will be the death of me? You know that?”

Jisung smiled, “You’ve told me once or twice.”

“Okay. So, let me guess this right. You want us to still act like just friends when everyone’s around, but when we’re alone it’ll be like we’re dating while you decide what you want? And if you don’t like it, we just go back to friends?”

Jisung nodded.

“And if you do like it, we figure that out when we get to it?”

Jisung nodded again.

“I don’t know,” Minho said honestly. Either way, they were risking a lot. “There’s a lot of things we haven’t considered. What if we try it and only one of us wants to stop? What if-”

“Min, please.” Jisung squeezed his hand, cutting him off, “I know it’s terrifying. Trust me I know. I think this is the most terrifying thing I’ve done in my life. Even worse than when I let Hyunjin trick me onto that zipline. But as much as I am afraid, I am also sure it’s the right thing to do.”

And that was true. Jisung was absolutely petrified with thoughts about how this could go wrong. But he also knew he was standing at the edge of a precipice that could drop him onto an entirely new path, and the thought of him making that jump with Minho made it just a little bit easier as he prepared himself for the dive.

“So, I have something to ask you.” Jisung linked their fingers, “Lee Minho, I like you a lot. Will you go on secret dates with me and make out with me when we’re all alone?”

Minho giggled at the ridiculous situation, his heart thudding with fear and excitement, “Han Jisung, I like you too. I guess I can go on secret dates with you and kiss you when we’re all alone.”

“Good.” Jisung’s smile stretched all the way to his gums, “Can we start now?” He gestured to the empty room with his free hand.

Minho took in Jisung’s puffy eyes from crying. His own heart and mind still coming to terms with everything they’d just discussed. He felt like he needed a week to just absorb the fact that Jisung like, _liked him_. He deadpanned, “You’re kidding right?”

Jisung was not.

He couldn’t get over how attractive Minho looked then. His hair escaping from where it had been combed back. His eyes sparkling with amusement. No doubt the look matched in Han’s eyes because now technically – sort of – he was dating Minho and that made him giddy with excitement so strong that he temporarily forgot the fear of it all. All he could focus on was the smile on Minho’s lips and how he could kiss them when he liked.

So that’s what he did.

Despite his disbelief that Jisung actually wanted a kiss right then, Minho made no move to stop him as Han moved closer.

Jisung found himself incredibly nervous because it was a lot scarier when they were sober. He smiled shyly and tentatively hopped onto Minho’s lap, legs on either side of his waist until he sat back on strong thighs. Minho rested his hands on Jisung’s slim hips and waited for him to do more, a lovable lopsided grin adorning his face. That damned smile warmed Jisung’s heart and gave him the courage to take Minho’s face in his hands, eyes fluttering closed to place a light kiss on his lips.

As he kissed Minho slowly, he was again shocked by the contrast of how rough and gentle Minho could be at the same time. His hands had tightened over Jisung’s hips, fingers pressing into the bare skin because he had somehow slipped his hands under Jisung’s shirt without him noticing, and his mouth was greedy, searching out Jisung’s tongue with his own and claiming it with that possessiveness that made Jisung shiver. But he didn’t push. He let Jisung lead the pace as he was happy to languidly kiss the younger like that for hours. He wanted Jisung comfortable and was happy to go as slow as Han needed.

Though after a few minutes of sliding their tongues together, Jisung had worked himself up, a shiver running down his spine. His hands slid into Minho’s hair, with nails digging at his scalp as he arched his body to press their chests together. Minho sensed the tremble in the other and responded to his fervour, pulling Jisung against him. Jisung’s kisses grew messy as he trailed them along Minho’s jaw to his neck, nipping at the sensitive skin before making the journey back and crushing their lips together again.

Minho let out an airy huff as Jisung bit at his neck, his kneejerk reaction to pull Jisung’s hips firm against his own, the younger letting out his own whine before he reconnected their lips.

A content hum fell over Minho. He was completely absorbed in Jisung, memorising every shudder and every groan. He let Jisung’s hands roam over his body, revelling in the delicate way they squeezed at his muscles as they once again became used to feeling a solid body. Minho knew he wasn’t the leanest of men, but he certainly wasn’t soft, and they way Jisung’s hands lingered at his biceps and chest was proof enough, his fingers prodding at the hard muscle there.

Jisung was a shivering mess. He knew he was overwhelmed. A lot had happened that night. Emotionally and physically his body was in disarray. But he wasn’t prepared to stop. He let his mouth press firmly against Minho’s until both were bitten red and swollen.

When Jisung finally drew back, chest heaving and lightheaded as he sucked in air, Minho followed him, eyes tightly shut as he desperately tried to reconnect their lips.

“Loser,” Jisung taunted, flicking Minho’s nose and laughing lightly, “You’re weak for me already.”

Minho blinked his eyes open, the lazy kiss stupor slipping from him. He looked into Jisung’s amused brown eyes and tch-ed, tightening his hold around Jisung’s waist and picking him up. He flipped them around, tossing Jisung down onto the bed forcefully and hovering over him.

“Wanna say that again?”

Jisung stilled where he hit the pillows. The air temporarily knocked from him and his eyes wide.

Minho’s cocky smile dropped quickly, worried he had hurt Han, “Are you alright?”

Jisung released a shaky breath, face pink as he looked up at Minho and replied, “Yeah. Just took me by surprise. I-I think I liked that.”

They’d play wrestled in the past, but his racing heart and the adrenalin rush that followed told him that this time was different. Jisung swallowed, licked his lips and eyed Minho’s again.

Yeah, he liked that. He really liked that.

“Ah.” Minho took in the heavy-lidded look that crossed Jisung’s face, realisation dawning.

Without warning, Jisung pulled him until Minho was settled between his legs, curling his calves around Minho’s thighs. The feeling as Minho hovered over him, eyes sparkling with want had his stomach doing somersaults. He was burning up. He could feel the blood racing around his body and pounding in his veins, rushing away from his head until he was dizzy on the thought of Minho.

He wrapped his arms around the back of Minho’s neck and tugged. The elder nearly collapsed from the force the younger had pulled him, carefully bracing his arms on either side of Jisung’s head. Han wasn’t fazed, pulling Minho even closer until he could connect their lips again.

This kiss was more like the ones they shared at Felix’s house. More tongue and teeth and something primal in the way they touched.

Jisung found his hands dancing over Minho again. There was something oddly satisfying about touching his body. It was so different from the girls in his past, but not in a bad way. He found it exhilarating, running his hands up and down Minho’s abdomen, his chest, his arms and anywhere else he could touch.

Minho adjusted his position until his chest was flush with Jisung’s, so he no longer had to brace himself from collapsing on the younger. That gave his hands the freedom to snake their way under Jisung’s shirt again. He couldn’t help it. Jisung’s skin was warm and soft and so tight over his abdomen. Minho was admittedly jealous of the defined lines of musculature there. But he was so attracted to the firm muscles that he couldn’t stay mad. Especially when every time he brushed his thumbs over the sensitive skin between Jisung’s abdominals and hip bones, the younger would shudder all the way up his spine.

Minho was addicted.

He craved more of those little whimpers.

So, he pulled back from the kiss, drawing a pouty whine from Jisung who tried to arch up against his retreating figure. He took the hem of Jisung’s shirt and pushed it up until it bundled under his armpits, exposing the tan expanse of Jisung’s chest. Then he bent down and placed a kiss to the centre of Jisung’s skin. The younger’s breath hitched, his eyes watching intently as Minho had complete control over him.

Jisung was so receptive to every touch that Minho couldn’t stop himself from pushing here and pinching there, pressing further until the younger was whining under him. Han’s eyes had squeezed shut in a pleasurable need, daring occasionally to glance down and watch as Minho caressed him. But that always proved too much, especially when he locked eyes with Minho, and the elder looked ready to devour him by the hunger in his eyes. So, he squeezed his eyes shut again and tried not to cry too loud when Minho mouthed at his nipple.

Jisung was hard. He knew it. Minho knew it. How could he not when Minho’s hips were pressed flush to his? The material of their sweatpants did nothing to hide the growing length within.

It didn’t help that the unconscious part of his body had started grinding up into Minho, shallow movements as he tried to lessen the increasing need. Minho seemed to realise his desperation because he shifted again, swinging one of the legs off his waist so he could settle with one of his thighs between Jisung’s legs, and one of Jisung’s between his.

Jisung felt a bit embarrassed as he started rolling his hips up onto Minho’s thigh, but the fact that Minho was responding with a rocking of his own encouraged him. It was timid at first, but soon Jisung worked up a rhythm, desperately grinding his hips into Minho. He could feel the hard quadriceps muscle through Minho’s sweatpants, tensing and releasing as he too rutted with Jisung.

The whole time Minho never once stopped his kissing and sucking and biting over Jisung’s neck and chest and lips in a dizzying cycle.

Unexpectedly Jisung let out a half-yelp and half-groan as he shuddered, his hips stilling their relentless pushing onto Minho.

Minho pulled back in worry, eyes wide as he assessed the look on Jisung’s face, trying to tell what that sound was.

The younger blushed a deep red and drew back as far as he could from under Minho, his legs trying to pull closed.

“Sung?” He questioned,

The boy whimpered, avoiding eye contact, “Please don’t look at me.”

He was trying to shuffle his way out, keeping his legs as far from Minho as possible.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

Jisung whimpered again, unsuccessfully escaping because he was embarrassingly exhausted, arms jelly where he was caged under Minho. Once he stopped his frantic wriggling, Minho settled back down and the younger all but squealed when Minho pressed their hips together again.

“Shit,” Minho inhaled sharply in surprise, “Did you just . . .”

“Shut up,” Han mumbled, his face still on fire,

Minho laughed softly,

“Seriously, I am so embarrassed right now.”

Jisung couldn’t look him in the eye and Minho tried to console him through his laughs, “I didn’t realise you were so sensitive,”

“Fuck you. You know how sensitive I am.”

Minho pulled back and sat on his heels, “Not _that _sensitive.”

Jisung whined again, the flush spreading down his neck, “It’s been a while, okay? And I’m overly responsive to you right now because I’m an emotional mess who just figured out guys are disgustingly hot.”

Minho shushed him, “Hey, I’m not upset, don’t be embarrassed.”

“How can I not be embarrassed?! I just came in my pants like a fucking virgin.”

Minho chuckled at that, “Yeah, you did.”

Jisung pushed at his chest, still half under him, “You’re not supposed to fucking agree!”

“It’s sort of cute though. That I could get you off so easily.” Minho leant back down and placed a kiss to Han’s neck.

Jisung was suddenly aware of the fact that Minho was still very much hard, and he sort of felt bad for leaving him that way but the stiffness pushing against his thigh was another reminder of how new he was to this.

“Minho,” Jisung whined defeatedly, “The mood is dead. There is cum all through my underwear, and I now have another moment of shame that will follow me until I die. I don’t care what you do to yourself but please let me out so I can clean up before it soaks through my pants.”

“Okay, okay. Let me get you some fresh clothes.” Minho rolled off him and slipped off the bed, going to his drawers.

“Thank you,” Jisung mumbled quietly.

He grabbed out a pair of boxers and pants too, calling over to Jisung with a smirk on his face, “Does my sensitive little baby need anything else?”

“Fuck you.” Jisung glowered as he waddled over,

“Maybe one day you will,” Minho winked.

Jisung fumbled at that, quickly snatching the clothes and disappearing into the room’s bathroom.

After Jisung cleaned himself up he came back to find Minho with his arms opened invitingly on the bed. 

“You don’t need to . . .” Jisung trailed off, as he reluctantly climbed back into Minho’s embrace.

“Nah. I’m not a horny teenager who comes in his pants.”

Jisung punched him so hard Minho was sure it’d bruise.

They talked for a few hours after that over take-out dinner. Jisung nervously asked about when Minho knew he was gay and how he dealt with it. Minho took his time to carefully answer each of the younger’s questions, sharing his own suggestions to Jisung as much as he could. It was reassuring. They also took the time to lay out some ground rules for the new turn in their relationship. It felt very un-romantic. But it gave Jisung some piece of mind. When it came time to sleep neither questioned it as Jisung curled into Minho’s bed, feeling the most at peace he had in the past three months.

Changbin didn’t question it either when he got back to the room in the early hours of the morning, careful not to wake anyone and not surprised at all when he saw his younger friend curled around his roommate. He knew Minho had missed his best friend but was too stubborn to admit it, ignoring whatever reason had kept them apart. So, he was very happy to see them back together, especially when it gave him more fuel to tease them.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Devastated. Just devastated. I wish the best for all our boys, to be happy and healthy no matter what paths they choose, and I hope Stays are strong in this time and continue to support Skz as the family we are. Nine or None. <3 <3 <3
> 
> Hi everyone. Sorry for the slower update this time. I um-ed and ah-ed about whether or not I should try and re-write this whole chapter because I wasn’t really happy with it. But you know - lazy. So yeah. I finally sucked it up and just posted what I had. I just wasn’t in the mood to write for obvious reasons.
> 
> Also. I may go back and do some editing sometime soon because the amount of errors I’ve seen looking back is nasty. I am even more impressed looking back that some of you actually like this story. Crazy.
> 
> Next chapter should be pretty obvious as to what is in store. Just fyi and as a last warning for any soft stans who I don’t wanna scar.
> 
> Lastly. I’m a goddamn loser and cannot take my writing or intimacy seriously. You have probably started to realise that from this chapter. So, just don’t get your hopes too high >.<


	13. Touch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is the stolen touches that follow, a series of firsts that exhilarate you in a way nothing else has.

The first time Jisung touched Minho. Like, _touched_ him, it wasn’t really planned. Nothing between them ever was.

After the night Jisung confessed to Minho, the most they had done was some heavy make-out sessions. Han would be lying if he said he wasn’t curious to go further. There just wasn’t a lot of free time or an eloquent way for him to say that, despite his caution, he was ready to grab Minho’s dick . . . Just yeah, years of ‘no homo’ had done its damage on his frail masculine psyche and he couldn’t form the words, even if logically he knew it wasn’t that different from touching himself. So, every time Minho’s hands brushed onto his inner thigh, teasing so, so close, he froze. His mouth stalled and he found himself hopeless in voicing that he really, really wanted Minho to touch him too.

In the end, he didn’t have to say anything.

As with every part of their relationship, even from the first day they met, things just naturally progressed in a clumsy yet casual way. One-minute Han was straddled over Minho’s back, kneading into the sore muscles of his lower spine where he routinely strained himself dancing, and the next there was a hand around his dick, pumping him steadily as he panted into the dancer’s neck.

He didn’t have the time to be embarrassed because Minho’s hand was warm against the cool air on his sensitive exposed skin. Minho knew just the right amount of pressure to place to have him releasing a content moan. It wasn’t the first time someone had given him a handjob, but it was the first time someone had done it so well, seeming to understand exactly where to press to make him whimper.

Minho tightened his grip and pressed firm over the head, making Jisung shudder and his legs widen involuntarily, knocking with Minho’s who was sitting beside him on the bed. The elder was half hovering over him, twisted towards the younger and kissing down the side of his neck. He had his right hand against Han’s cheek and his left hand languidly pumping him. Jisung leant against the wall, arms looped loosely and scrambling at Minho’s back, trying to keep himself steady as he whined into the junction of Minho’s shoulder. His sweatpants were twisted at his ankles, and his underwear was just low enough on his hips for Minho to slip him out.

It was clumsy and impulsive and so very them.

Minho was dangerously close to leaving an obvious mark on the youngers skin, too caught up to think about the consequences of a bite during his ministrations. Instead, he left a faint pink blemish where he mouthed at the base of Jisung’s neck. Jisung hadn’t noticed at the time either, too preoccupied with what Minho’s hand was doing, but he still threw a fit upon finding it the next day. There was no way he could explain something like that to their frustratingly nosey friends.

Minho lapped at the abused skin before pulling back and drawing Jisung’s attention. The younger’s eyes were half-lidded, but they could still see Minho’s dark irises watching him attentively. A smirk adorned his face as he discerned the alluring flush on the younger’s cheeks.

“How’s it feeling, Hannie?” He drawled, tugging a little faster,

Jisung huffed out a strangled reply, “Good.”

Minho’s smile grew, one side of his mouth quirking higher – the smug bastard was all Jisung could think, if he could think, but his mind was too focused elsewhere. His hips were fighting the urge to press up into Minho’s hand because he just needed _more_. Jisung closed his eyes and puckered his lips, silently asking for a kiss that Minho was more than happy to oblige.

He had found comfort in the way Minho’s lips slotted against his over the past few weeks, always soft and slick with a fruity flavour of whatever lip balm he was currently using. There was just something always immensely satisfying about the way Minho dominated his mouth, tongue poking out and meeting his with an equal amount of fervour and fight. Minho just had the ability to melt him into a boneless puddle, limbs useless as he crumbled under the dancer’s touch.

Today was no different. His arms were slack where they fumbled against Minho’s back, and his toes curled where they stretched out before them, his legs jolting whenever Minho pressed in just the right spot to make him flinch in delight. He could already feel tightness coiling down in his stomach and he let himself be pulled along with that need, mind numb as he let the pleasure of being taken care of fill his entire being. No one had ever been able to get him off just like that and he was pretty fucking thrilled.

To add to the satisfaction, Minho let his thumb press into the slit and Han cried out, falling from the kiss with his eyes rolling back. Minho just laughed appreciatively and leant against the wall too, smug in his accomplishment. His hand never once stopped its torturous motion, finished with his teasing he started pumping harder, bringing the younger to the brink of release.

On and on Minho stroked him until Jisung knew it was too much and he was ready to come undone. He had one hand in his hair and the other resting on Minho’s thigh, squeezing every time Minho did something to make him moan. His whole body had tensed ready to release, and his eyes briefly flicked towards Minho. The elder was watching him intently, eyes focused on the younger’s face, bottom lip between his teeth. Han flushed again, suddenly feeling very vulnerable under that stare.

But it was too late.

He groaned lowly as he came, spilling onto his stomach and Minho’s hand. His head fell to the side, leaning onto Minho’s shoulder with his eyes closed as he lingered in his high. Minho continued to stroke him through it, easing him down into a serene hum while he focused on levelling his breathing.

Jisung was drifting the edge between awake and asleep when he felt Minho leaning over to fumble on the bedside drawers. He returned with some tissue to wipe them off while Han’s tired form remained on his shoulder the whole time. He didn’t even have the energy to protest when he felt Minho wipe him down, slip his underwear back up and his shirt back down. He was too engrossed in his post-orgasm trance. There was something about it that was just better when it was shared with another person, his body warm where he was pressed to Minho, breathing in his favourite fruity scent.

When Jisung’s eyes opened again, they were looking right down onto Minho’s lap, and the obvious tent in his shorts. He bit his lip in thought, realising that now was a good as time as any.

Han’s hand still resting on Minho’s thigh tightened and he drew back off his shoulder, asking quietly, “Can I?”

Minho’s eyes flickered between Han’s face and where the hand hovered at his thigh, “You don’t have to if you’re not ready. That was just my treat for the massage.”

“No,” Han protested, shaking his head, “I want to.”

“You sure?”

Han nodded vigorously and his fingers found their way into the waistband on Minho’s shorts, tugging until he let the elastic snap back onto the dancer’s skin, “I’ve been ready for a while.” He admitted bashfully, “Let me help you out.”

“Okay.” Minho agreed, his heart racing at the thought.

Jisung pressed his palm down first, gauging Minho’s reaction as he touched him through the thin material. The elder immediately gasped, he was all worked up from touching Han and his heart was more than a little excited now that the favour was being repaid. Han’s fingers teased some more, running up and down the length as best he could through the shorts. It was certainly different. But he liked the way Minho squirmed under his touch.

Jisung went back up to his hem, tugging the waistband down, “Help me out,” He whispered. Minho dug his heels into the bed, raising his hips so Jisung could pull down his shorts.

Once Minho was free, Jisung took a second to compose himself. It was a dick. He knew it would be. It wasn’t the first he’d seen but was certainly the first he’d interact with, excluding his own of course. But yes, as he had a dick of his own he knew what to do with this one, in theory.

“You want me to start?” Minho looked at him with a cocky eyebrow raised, but Jisung could still see the unease in his eyes,

Jisung shook his head, blushing again and wanting to cuss him out, but too far gone to put the last of the energy he had into it. He tentatively reached over and took Minho in his hand. The elder let out a shaky breath. Slowly, Jisung gave an experimental tug and listened as Minho’s breath hitched. The elder leant over and gave encouraging kisses to Han’s neck and shoulder and wherever he could reach, building Jisung’s confidence as he started working up a decent pace.

All in all, Jisung concluded it wasn’t that different from jerking off himself.

But it was better.

Much better.

It was better because the sounds Minho made shot straight to his gut and if he wasn’t so exhausted, he knew he would’ve been hard again in no time. He felt especially giddy when Minho moaned out, “You’re doing so good, Sungie.” The words were heated against the crook of his neck, the praise going straight to his heart and head.

He knew when Minho was reaching his limits because the elder’s hand came to rest over his, guiding him just enough into a specific rhythm. If the groan it elicited was anything to go by, he knew he was doing something right. His eyes couldn’t help straying down, enthralled with the way Minho twitched under his hand. But they always flicked back up to Minho’s face for confirmation that he was going the right thing, eating up the praise as Minho whined, _yes, like that, so good_. Then the low hum as Minho spilt onto his stomach was utterly captivating. Jisung could watch that look on his face over and over and over again.

Afterwards, Jisung returned the favour to clean him up. Once he was done, he took a moment to share in a chaste – and what could only be called loving – kiss, cuddling his way into Minho’s arms. There was nothing but adoration in the way they held each other, Minho absentmindedly running his hands through Jisung’s hair while the younger nuzzled into his neck. It was warm and peaceful between them as they basked in their post-orgasm quiet. Nothing about that experience had unsettled Han, it only cemented the idea that with Minho was where he was supposed to be. So, he nestled further into Minho’s neck breathing deeply his scent and letting his drowsiness lull him into a short sleep.

. . .

Was it wrong that they technically gave each other a handjob before their first date? They may have had plenty of days spent with just each other for company in the past, but none of them had been while they were strictly dating.

Minho had so kindly pointed that fact out to Jisung over pizza.

“You can’t say that shit so loud!” Han protested. He blushed profusely and glanced around nervously.

“What?” Minho stuffed another slice into his mouth, “No one’s paying attention to us. And besides, it’s true. Because I guess this is technically our first date.”

“I-” Jisung froze. He was right. This was the first time they’d been out together with just them in a while. They’d hung out with their friend group and stolen a kiss here and there. But they truly hadn’t even sat down to eat a meal alone until right then.

That thought made uncertainty twist its way into Jisung’s gut again. He knew he shouldn’t have felt it. So many times, they’d done just that in the past as friends. But the word, _date_, suddenly carried a different weight to it.

Minho’s heart squeezed painfully as he watched Jisung’s shoulders rise as he tensed. He wanted desperately to reach out and take one of Jisung’s hands, but he was also sure that would just make the younger drawback further.

“Hey,” Minho called, “It doesn’t have to be a _date_, date.”

Han shook his head, his fringe fell over his eyes, “No. I told you I’d go out with you. You said that’s what you wanted. So that’s what this is.” Jisung forced a smile onto his face, “It just feels like there’s a different expectation to this, you know?”

Minho nodded solemnly, “There doesn’t have to be though.”

He couldn’t ignore the fluttering in his stomach when he thought about the possibility of dating Jisung. He couldn’t look past the fear that gripped at him too though, telling him that there was no way Jisung would ever fully accept him. He couldn’t do a lot of things when it came to Jisung.

But over the past couple weeks, he realised that didn’t matter. Because no matter what, Jisung was his. Friend or lover. His.

No awkward first date would change that.

“I just want to eat food with you and talk as we always do. I’m not expecting flowers or for you to sing about how you’re whipped for me to the restaurant.” Minho laughed, “Truth be told we passed the first date stage a long time ago. You’re just nervous because this is your first official date with a guy. It has nothing to do with you and me.”

Han left out an exasperated laugh, “You’re probably right. It’s just hard to shake that heavy feeling.”

Minho rubbed his chin, “I can’t tell you that feeling will ever not be there. But it does get better. I think-” Minho sat back in his chair, contemplating how to phrase things, “I think over time you learn to be comfortable with who you are. There are going to be moments when it’s hard. But overall you start to care less about what everyone thinks and more about what you and those close to you think. And once you focus on those that truly matter, everything becomes a lot simpler.”

When Minho looked back up, Han was looking at him a little stunned.

“What?”

Jisung huffed and scratched behind his ear, “You just caught me off guard.”

Minho smiled at the other’s coy actions, “How so?”

“I don’t know. I could just tell you understand exactly how I feel right now, and you knew just what to say to make me feel better. It just hit different, I guess.”

As Jisung looked at the soft smile on Minho’s face, the same smile that always promised him everything would be alright, the truth hit him.

He really did love Minho.

Jisung turned away and played with his napkin, mumbling, “I-I don’t think I’ve ever been more attracted to you.”

“Ah.” Minho quipped, pink dusting his cheeks behind his confident smile, “I’m pretty attracted to myself too.”

Han blinked up at him. “Asshole.” He grunted, reaching across the table to throw a punch at Minho. But there was no force behind the move because he appreciated the way Minho had effortlessly lightened the heavy atmosphere.

He also smoothly caught Jisung’s fist and laced their fingers together instead, resting their joined hands back down on the table surface.

Jisung stiffened. He glanced down at their hands, up to Minho’s challenging eyes and around to the other patrons who paid them no attention. Slowly he let himself relax again, easing into the way Minho’s thumb brushed against the back of his hand.

“Smooth fucker,” Han huffed.

Minho shrugged, “Can’t help if I’m irresistible.”

Han shook his head, refusing to dignify him with a response.

Jisung’s eyes trailed down again, then back around the restaurant. What Minho had said crossed his mind, maybe it was okay to not care about the notions of others. Another thought popped up, it was their first time while dating they were holding hands in public. He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face along with it.

. . .

After dinner that night during their post-date make out, Minho had whispered into Jisung’s ear a question of whether he could suck him off. The younger had nodded his head so vigorously that Minho thought he might sprain his neck. It was certainly encouraging for Minho, who laughed at the younger’s eagerness. A giddy Jisung rolled off from where he’d been grinding down on Minho’s lap, throwing himself back on the bed and shucking down his pants in such a hurry to get his first blowjob from Minho, completely unashamed at exposing his lower half so readily to the elder.

Han almost cried in pleasure at the way Minho’s mouth wrapped around him. He had his bottom lip between his teeth hard enough to draw blood and a hand pressed to his mouth too, both in an effort to muffle his sounds. He was trying desperately to keep his whimpers below the volume of Hyunjin’s drama playing outside his door.

His other hand was knotted into the soft strands of Minho’s dark hair, just resting carefully on the head bobbing up and down against him. He wasn’t sure if it was because of experience or innate skill, but Jisung melted under his touch, stomach clenching in no time while his eyes rolled back.

Han would unashamedly admit he came nearly as quick as he did that first time they were grinding.

. . .

Turns out alcohol was always an aphrodisiac for them.

And one hell of a hazard.

Party bathrooms were hot and stuffy and just a little too laced with the scent of vomit to be conducive for romance, but they were perfect for a quick make out while they hurriedly jerked themselves off. With foreheads resting together as Han’s fist travelled back and forth quickly over his dick, following Minho’s fast pace. He panted with the elder, his gaze flitting back and forth between Minho’s lidded eyes and where their hands were moving together between them. It was exhilarating and terrifying and a little shameful. Jisung didn’t mind though. There was something so satisfying about watching Minho come undone. The way his nose crinkled, and his eyes squeezed shut as he groaned. The low rumble of his voice shooting straight down past Jisung’s stomach until he was throwing his head back in a silent gasp too.

Clean up was always a bit of a killjoy, having to ensure they left no signs of what they’d done on each other or around the room. They never rushed to leave though. Always taking a moment to just hold each other.

Jisung had Minho pinned against the vanity, the arms on either side of him gripping the cool porcelain sick while their lips grazed on and off in a lazy way. Even with the thumping bass reverberating through the walls, along with the sounds of a thousand conversations, there was always a moment of peace between them. Just them alone in the post-orgasm bliss. It was almost easy to pretend they were together. Truly together. And with that thought, Minho’s heart soared.

It soared until there was an aggressive knocking at the door.

“Yah! You’ve been in there forever. Can you hurry up?!”

Just like that, the trance was broken. Jisung hurriedly retracted himself from Minho, as if Changbin could see through the door right to them. His heart immediately racing, the alcohol had already burnt through his system and he was feeling vulnerably sober.

“It’s me!” Minho called back, “I’m nearly done. Can you come back in a minute?”

“Minho?! What the hell are you doing in there? I need to piss.”

“I said give me a minute!”

Minho frowned and looked at the other, Jisung was pulling at his lip in that nervous way of his. Changbin was a good friend of theirs, the likelihood of him assuming anything about them coming out of the bathroom together would be unlikely. He might crack a joke about what they’d been up to, but there would be no motivation behind it. Still, it was something Minho knew Jisung wouldn’t be happy with and with the way Changbin was smacking on the door every couple of seconds told them he wasn’t going away.

Minho cursed under his breath then pushed Jisung towards a corner of the room, “You drank too much.” He stated,

Jisung stumbled towards the toilet, “What?” He scrunched his face at Minho in confusion.

Minho rolled his eyes, “You drank too much and I’m helping you out. Now get on your knees and act sick.”

“Oh,” Jisung clicked, he knelt and tried to put on a sombre face, which was easy considering his stomach was flip-flopping sickeningly, making him actually a little queasy.

Minho stomped over and opened to door, an unsteady Changbin stumbling into the room as he had been leaning onto the door. “Finally.” He grumbled and looked around the room, his eyes immediately falling on the other figure in the room, “Jisung?”

Minho nodded, “Just drank too much. That’s why we’ve been in here a while, I was helping him out.”

Changbin’s mind sharpened a bit as he looked genuinely concerned at the younger, “Are you alright, man? You do look a little flushed and out of it.”

Han had the decency to crease up his face, knowing full well his blush had nothing to do with the drinks he’d had an everything to do with the image of Minho’s hand around both of their dicks. “Just too much to drink. I’ll be alright with some water.”

Changbin accepted that and slapped a comforting hand on Jisung’s shoulder as the younger made a big effort of standing up. Behind his shorter friend, he could see Minho rolling his eyes at his over the top acting, but Changbin seemed drunk enough to not notice.

“I’m going to help him get home,” Minho explained, throwing a supportive arm over Jisung’s shoulder and leading him from the room. “Bathroom is all yours.”

“Get home safe,” Changbin called, closing the door behind them.

Once with a door between them, Jisung let out a deep breath. First time almost getting caught – he didn’t include that time with Felix because the younger didn’t remember a thing – horribly had his heart racing. He hated himself as he felt that doubt grip into his mind again. Not even Minho’s arm over his shoulder was comforting enough to pull him from his insecurity. He truly did feel sick and want to go home. And that feeling would take another week to settle, leaving Jisung to feel guilty about the uncertainty he felt with Minho, especially when the elder’s face was starting to light up at the sight of him.

. . .

The first time Minho fingered Jisung was not romantic. At all.

They had been fooling in Minho’s room when Jisung asked if they could fuck.

Using those exact words.

This led to Minho explaining it’d take a bit more preparation than a condom and a spare five minutes alone. Which in turn led to Jisung asking about Minho’s history and Minho answered honestly. He had both given and received, one for each of his two partners in the past. Jisung felt a twinge of jealousy at that, even though he knew it was long over, he was sad he wouldn’t be Minho’s first. But he was also relieved because it meant Minho could run him through it with first-hand experience. Minho also gave Jisung clear instruction that he could pick whichever role he wanted, stating he had preferred topping in the past, but both were enjoyable, and that he would find either amazing no matter what Jisung wanted.

At the time Jisung’s interest was piqued at the thought of bottoming and he was hesitant but sure in his decision to at least have Minho finger him that night. Safe to say it was not their most sensual of nights. Jisung had cried at the sensation, gritting his teeth for as long as he could but eventually yelping out in pain when Minho tried a second finger.

Minho felt awful for making the younger cry. They both knew Jisung was sensitive, but it was still a shock to them both. It killed the mood, and both blamed themselves.

Minho had offered to bottom instead, but there never seemed to be enough time, and when there was Jisung would shut him down.

The incident led another trail of guilt deep into Jisung’s heart, where he was sure all the things he had done wrong would one day come pouring out and Minho would stop looking at him with fire in his eyes. So, he refused every offer of Minho’s, because he knew he didn’t deserve it.

After a few weeks, Minho stopped bringing it up.

. . .

The first time Minho gave Jisung a genuine compliment – one filled with such sincerity, yet it somehow slipped off his tongue without effort in front of the others – Jisung baulked so hard everyone laughed at the face he made.

They were sprawled out together on various mats on the park grounds, enjoying the last of the warm weather before Autumn turned to Winter. Chan had gathered everyone to watch some planet or star, or something Jisung wasn’t sure what, that could only be seen tonight before another five years. They’d chastised their friend for being a space nerd, but accepted his offer for the late-night stakeout, bringing food and blankets and wide smiles when they saw a bear-looking male was already there helping Chan set up when everyone else arrived. They’d spent the night catching up with Woojin and eating shitty food and just laughing together, eyes on the clear skies. As the temperature started to get cooler, they huddled together more, pulling blankets around shoulders and siding up into smaller groupings.

Han couldn’t help the soft smile on his face as he watched Chan look at Woojin with his own stars in his eyes, Jisung knew his friend had been missing the support of their eldest companion, a scattered phone call between busy schedules just not doing them justice. The look on Woojin’s face told them that he was just as happy to be spending time with his same-aged friend. When their voices grew more hushed, Han looked away and gave them a moment to enjoy just each other’s company.

Hyunjin, Felix and Changbin were sprawled out all over each other, limbs tangled in what seemed to be battle of who could touch more of each other. Also, with them was Seungmin, the latest addition to their group. He didn’t seem as thrilled about the touching as the others but nevertheless had Hyunjin’s head on his lap.

Han snorted, “Gay.”

Hyunjin scoffed from where he had Felix in his lap, “Like you two can talk.”

Han was sitting between Minho’s legs, the elder’s arms under his and wrapping firmly around his chest, they had a fluffy blanket surrounding them and Jisung felt sleepy, all warm and comfortable under the night sky.

“Shut up,” Han mumbled, burying into the blanket with a blush.

Minho giggled, “He’s not wrong. I’m pretty gay.”

Han went to say something else but was cut off by Chan calling out, “There it is!”

All eyes turned to the sky and they grew silent. From his spot in Minho’s arms, Jisung could see a glimpse of his face as he looked up, the pools of brown in Minho’s eyes sparkling in the moonlight and Han was momentarily distracted from the reason they were there until Chan started explaining what they were looking at again. There was a murmur of praise throughout them as they were mystified by the gorgeous night sky. Soon enough, the view faded, and the jovial conversation returned.

Han was still bewildered, looking up at the stars while Felix was talking about the latest game he brought. He exclaimed quietly and mostly to himself, “I can’t believe how pretty it is.”

“Our Hannie is prettier.”

It took a second for the comment to register, then Jisung’s head flicked to look at Minho. He was looking up at the stars too, but there was no mistaking the compliment in his words. At the movement in his arms, he looked down to see a bewildered look on Jisung’s face and recognition seemed to dawn on him too as if he just realised what he’d said. Felix and Hyunjin snickered and Changbin snorted from the sidelines, laughing at the perplexed look on Han’s face.

“What?” Han spluttered to the boy holding him,

“I don’t know, I just wanted to say it.” Minho shrugged and Changbin snorted again.

“Gay.” Hyunjin taunted, mocking Jisung’s voice from earlier.

If Jisung’s hands weren’t buried under a blanket he would have flipped him off, instead, he settled for a glower that his roommate just laughed off. He was sure the blush on his face didn’t help his scowl and he hoped that Minho couldn’t feel the racing of his heart where his hands still rested on Jisung’s chest.

Minho directed the conversation back towards Felix with a question about the game, but Han was momentarily stumped as he watched Minho out of the corner of his eye. He felt ridiculously happy at the simple comment and snuggled further into Minho’s hold, placing his hands over Minho’s under the blanket and linking their fingers. He didn’t miss the way Minho’s mouth twisted up in response.

. . .

The first time they made love was following an epiphany of Jisung’s. It was sweet and clumsy and a little – okay, a lot – painful. But Jisung didn’t regret it all at.

“I realised what you meant,” Jisung spoke to the boy in his hold,

“Huh?” Minho hummed in response,

“Back when I first called you my soulmate. You knew how you felt about me way back then and I was too dumb to realise.” It had taken far too long for Jisung to look back in his memory and realise what all those pained looks Minho had given him meant.

“But you didn’t know what you felt then, so even if you did get what I was asking would you have wanted this?” He gestured to them, Jisung with his bare chest pressed to Minho’s equally exposed back as they spooned,

“Probably not, I knew I felt something, but I was so confused back then so I think it would have scared me,”

Minho shrugged, “So, it’s for the best you didn’t figure it out then.”

“I still feel bad. Fuck, man. I called you my soulmate, right to your face while you were trying not to scare me away with your feelings.”

Minho let out one of his carefree giggles, “You were a fucking tease, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, like you are one to talk,” Jisung squeezed his arms tighter around Minho’s middle, leaning into his ear and pushing his hips forward, “Besides I thought you liked it.”

Minho sucked in a breath, “You are actually killing me, you know that?”

Jisung just chuckled and Minho could picture the cocky grin on his face.

There was a sudden rapid knock on the door. Jisung’s eyes immediately flew towards the doorknob, checking it was still locked. Even though he had checked it five times already before stripping them from their shirts and running his lips down Minho’s chest half an hour ago.

Hyunjin called through the door, “Hey, I’m going to Seungmin’s to study and will crash there for the night. With Yeosang out, that means you’ll be here alone tonight, so try not to burn the house down in my absence.”

“Yah!” Jisung called at the door, mentally flipping Hyunjin off,

“That last bit was directed to you Minho, please keep Jisung out of the kitchen unattended. Last week he left of a pot of water on the stove so long it boiled dry.”

“But I was in my groove! You know how I get when the lyrics are flowing.”

Hyunjin seemed unimpressed, “Well, you can tell that to the goddamn gas bill.”

Minho let out a hearty laugh, “Don’t worry, Hyunjin. Uber eats it is tonight then.”

“Thank the heavens we found someone who can keep Jisung on a leash,” Hyunjin spoke this to himself, just loud enough for them to hear from Jisung’s room, giggling at the growl he heard from within, “Alright, I’m outta here. See you at lunch tomorrow.”

“See you,” Minho called politely.

“I hope you’re picturing my middle finger waving you off,” Jisung howled aggressively, Hyunjin’s fading laugh signifying he had heard.

They were quiet until they heard the front door slam, then Jisung leant forward and put a kiss on the back of Minho’s neck, “House to ourselves, hey? That brings me back to what I was saying before Jinnie rudely cut me off.”

Minho shivered at the lips on his neck, wriggling his hips back where Jisung still had his crotch pressed to his ass, “And what was that?”

“Well, now is a good a time as any. I was going to tell you and plan it all out and everything, but who knows when we’ll have a chance as good as this. I think I’m ready.” Jisung was rambling, he always did when he was nervous, “For sex that is.”

“Hmm,” Minho rolled around in Jisung’s arms so he could look at his face. He knew they’d get to that point eventually, but he wasn’t expecting it right then. Not after how the younger had cooled to his offers in the past. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ve thought about it a lot.” Jisung ran a hand back through his hair, “I did some reading too, after last time, I thought I should probably look into it myself. I felt bad making you explain everything to me and for you know . . .”

After the fingering incident, Minho didn’t bring it up for Jisung to try again and after being shut down with his offer to bottom, he decided he was quite content for them to keep grinding and palming and sucking each other off instead, assuming the younger had some strong reservations about sex for the time being. He was a simple man. He could live with just being sucked off.

Jisung started again, looking Minho in the eyes as he stated, “I-I still want to bottom.”

Minho read his face for uncertainty but Jisung held strong, “You are not just saying that because you know I like topping?”

“No. I was unsure after last time and I definitely want to top you in the future. But for my first time, like this, with you,” Jisung whispered the last words, “I want you in me.”

His face was burning as he cupped Minho’s cheeks.

“I trust you. I’ve been experimenting with myself and my fingers and it’s not entirely unpleasant,” Jisung blushed deeper, “I know I don’t have a lot of experience in general, and either way would be my first with a guy so both would be special. But I need to feel something different than being in someone. Everything we do together is so new and exhilarating to me, and this is just the same. I want to be filled,” He put their foreheads together, eyelids falling closed with nervousness and need, “By you Minho.”

The elder shivered at those words. “Okay then.” Minho tipped his head forward until their lips could brush, letting them linger agonisingly gentle for a second before pulling back, “I’ll take it slow and at any point, if you feel even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you say so and I stop no questions asked. Okay?”

Jisung nodded, trying to push forward with need, scrambling to reach Minho’s lips, “I’m ready.”

“Wait, babe. Let me finish.” Minho held him off, forcing him to look up at the serious tone in his voice, “I don’t care how far we make it. We only do what you’re comfortable with. This is all for you tonight. You draw the line and I will not cross it.”

Jisung’s heart jolted at the care and concern in those words, he nodded again, “I won’t let you do anything I don’t want.”

Despite his calm exterior, Minho was screaming internally. He was not lying when he said he thought sex with Jisung would be amazing either way, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t craving the feel of being buried in Jisung’s ass. Just the thought of it had him hardening in his sweatpants.

Jisung’s hands were still holding his face gently and Minho, in turn, brought his up and locked them behind Jisung’s neck as he guided them into another kiss, deeper this time.

Jisung responded immediately. His heart was already racing from his confession, he was anxious, there was no denying it, but he remained happy with his choice. So, when Minho gently nudged him onto his back and settled himself with a knee between Jisung’s legs, kissing aggressively the whole time, he found himself melting into the elder’s touch.

Sweat was prickling along Jisung’s brow and he could see Minho was just as affected by the building touches. The elder’s hair was mussed and Jisung could not miss the hard bulge in Minho’s pants when he shifted his leg up, a matching swelling in his own he was trying desperately to grind on Minho’s knee.

As time was for once insignificant, Minho savoured the touch and taste and smell of Jisung beneath him. He nibbled the younger’s lower lip and clashed their tongues until both their mouths were red and swollen. Then he moved his lips down, down Jisung’s neck and over his collarbones, pausing to leave a light mark on the sensitive divet that made Jisung shiver. He continued past his pectorals and navel until he trailed kisses all the way down to the younger’s v-line.

Minho placed a couple of open-mouthed kisses to each side of Jisung’s hips, biting gently on the bone before hooking fingers in his waistband and pulling his sweatpants and underwear down to his knees in one movement. Jisung’s cock sprung free and fell back against his stomach.

The younger shivered, both at the cool air and Minho’s hungry eyes. Shuffling back further on the bed, Minho wrenched the clothes completely off and tossed them somewhere across the room. His eyes rolled over Jisung’s body appreciatively, he could never get enough of looking at him like this, flushed and hard and sweating, darkened eyes looking back with a matching want and need.

With Jisung now bare before him, Minho shimmied back over to place a couple kisses on Jisung’s lips, pumping his dick lazily in his hand while he spoke, “If it’s anything like my first time it will still hurt, but the crucial thing is that we get you used to it so it’ll feel good eventually, if not this time then next time. So, I’m going to suck you off while I prep you and I want you to let me know the second it hurts too much.”

Jisung nodded again, moaning lowly at the coy strokes Minho was teasing him with, “I swear I’ll say. Just do something more. Please.”

“Okay, Hannie. Let me just get the lube and then I’ll start.”

Minho stuck to his word, prepping Jisung slowly and gently while he sucked him off. The mild burn that ran up Jisung’s spine when Minho stuck in a second finger had him softening in Minho’s mouth. The elder’s tongue picked up the slack, brushing along his slit and sensitive underside until he was at full mast again.

It was a lot different having someone else’s fingers inside. Even Minho’s short digits could reach a lot further, and then he was pumping and scissoring much more confidently than Jisung had tried on himself. The vastly different sensations had him squirming on the bed in a limbo of peculiar pain and pressure, whimpers and moans slipping past his lips from Minho’s skilled touch and mouth.

He was particularly surprised when Minho brushed somewhere deep with a curl of his fingers and Jisung’s legs jolted involuntarily. He let out a loud yelp of delight, a dash a pleasure now entering the sensations running up his spine. His hands flew to Minho’s hair, tugging a bit harsher than he should have. Minho just grinned around his cock and pumped his fingers into the same spot until Jisung thought for sure he was going to come then and there. Minho must have sensed it too because he backed off, leaving Jisung both disappointed and exhilarated.

Eventually, Minho was able to introduce a third finger, stretching Jisung out slowly until he deemed him open enough. He let Jisung’s dick fall from his mouth, slick up the hilt, precum beading steadily at the tip.

“How do you feel? I think you’re ready, but I wanna hear you say.”

Jisung already looked fucked out, his eyes were lidded, his hair was damp and mussed in all directions, and his chest was rising and falling rapidly, lips open and panting to match, “I’m ready. Please, want you in me.” He whined.

Minho didn’t need to be told twice. He shook the hair out of his eyes and slipped off the bed to shuck off his pants. Jisung watched greedily as the elder’s swollen, angry dick bounced out, and a smile made its way onto his blissed-out face at his observation, “No underwear? And you called me the tease,”

“I like the freedom.” Minho merely shrugged, a smirk gracing his cat-like features while tearing open a condom packet and slipping it on.

Jisung stretched out with a hand and Minho thought the younger was reaching for his dick, happily moving closer so Jisung could touch him. When Jisung’s fingers brushed his skin though, it wasn’t to wrap around him, instead, they lightly trailed the thin scar across his stomach. Minho shivered at the touch before shying back. Jisung always stopped to touch the marred skin in fascination whenever they fooled around, but it didn’t make Minho any less self-conscious about the flaw.

“I love that part of you,” Jisung said when the elder moved back and unconsciously covered the mark with his hand, “You think it’s an imperfection, but it’s not. It’s just one of the unique things that make you, you.”

Minho blushed, he could never quite get used to Jisung giving him sincere compliments. They could flirt and joke back and forth for days, but the second Jisung said something genuine Minho always baulked at the affection.

“Now if you’re done blushing, I’m hot and horny and could really use you back in bed.”

That was the Jisung he was more familiar with.

Minho poured copious amounts of lube on himself, pumping a few times because he had been aching for a while now, unable to touch himself while he prepared Jisung and he couldn’t help himself once he had a taste of glorious friction. He only let his hand drop when Jisung let out a not-so-obvious whine after being ignored for too long, he too was pumping himself lazily, eyes following Minho’s hand and pace matching his strokes.

Minho clambered back up onto the bed, settling himself between Jisung’s legs, pulling them up around his waist. He poured a drop more lube on his fingers and smeared it around Jisung’s hole, even though it was already dripping wet from the preparation, Minho just wanted to make this went as smooth as possible.

Once everything was in position, Minho placed a few last reassuring kisses to Jisung’s lips. Despite being blissed out, Minho could still see the crease of worry in the younger’s face, and the way Minho could feel his pulse racing when he grabbed one of Jisung’s wrists in his hand confirmed as much. He slid his hand from Jisung’s wrist up until they linked fingers and he rested them on the pillow beside Jisung’s head, with his other hand he brushed his finger’s back through Jisung’s hair, “I’m going to push in now and I want you to squeeze my hand as much as you need to.”

Jisung nodded and took a deep, shaky breath, his hand not interlaced with Minho’s coming to rest on the elder’s bicep. Minho lined himself up with Jisung’s entrance and the younger couldn’t help the way he tensed when Minho’s head contacted his rim, squeezing his linked hand nervously. Minho cooed to him gently until he felt Jisung loosen up a little, then he drove forward.

Gradually, Minho pushed himself in, slowing when he felt a particularly hard wave of resistance then sliding further when Jisung relaxed enough to let him in. He was only in halfway, surrounded completely by the warm, wet heat that was Jisung and it was already intoxicating. Minho held himself off from thrusting hard and fast like his body wanted to, screaming in scarcely controlled desperation over how hard he was inside Jisung.

He held off because even with all the prep work he knew nothing could prepare you entirely for the painful stretch of the first time and Jisung was no exception.

Jisung gripped bruises into Minho’s arm and hand. He was trying so hard to relax but a dull ache was stabbing at his lower spine at being so completely and over-filled. The unfamiliar pressure had his legs trembling. His teeth were gritted shut and silent tears slipped from his eyes. Yeah, it hurt. It hurt a fucking lot. But he bit his lip to stop himself from crying out because he knew he was going to do this.

Minho shifted his weight, bracing himself on an elbow beside Jisung’s head, his thumb still interlaced with Jisung’s was rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. Jisung’s free hand fell to Minho’s lower back instead, pressing into the small dip there just above where his ankles were still locked around Minho’s waist. The elder nuzzled his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck, peppering soft open mouth kisses there, “You are doing so good, Hannie. I’m so proud of you.”

Jisung couldn’t respond. Not confident his voice wouldn’t betray him. He let out a pathetic grunt of acknowledgement.

Minho tried to push all the way in but was met with a harsh zone of resistance and Han keened high in his throat, his whole-body tightening, “It hurts.”

Immediately Minho drew back with worry in his eyes and after a few moments Jisung’s hands loosened their harsh grip and he nodded for the other to continue.

He was met with the same patch of resistance and Jisung cried out in a mixture of frustration and pain.

“Hey, hey,” Minho fussed, using his free hand to push sweaty strands of hair from Jisung’s forehead, kissing the exposed skin softly, “You’re doing so good, baby, so good. You’re taking me so well. It’s alright.”

Jisung could only whine in response, his eyes looking up at Minho pleadingly, tears of desperation building at the corners when a third attempt resulted in the same problem.

“Shh,” He hushed the younger’s keening and pulled out fully, watching the younger wince when he did so.

“Sorry,” Jisung mumbled, embarrassed and angry with himself,

“Don’t apologise. I’m so proud of you, babe.” Minho stole a kiss from his lips, “Did you want to stop there?”

Jisung couldn’t quite look him in the eyes, “What do you mean?”

“We could try another way. I just wanted to do it this way so I could watch your gorgeous face while I fucked you slowly.”

“Oh,” Jisung’s dick twitched at that and he felt himself clench. Yes. Yes, he wanted to try another way. “Where do you want me?” He asked out of breath.

“This way is usually easier,” Minho explained as he smiled at him and helped roll Han onto his stomach, pulling up Jisung’s hips and using his legs to spread Jisung’s. He slid a pillow under him as well, cushioning between Jisung’s pelvis and the bed.

Jisung shivered when he felt Minho rubbing between his cheeks, teasing at his entrance again, his hands curled into the bedsheets next to where his chest was pressed to the soft mattress. He felt vulnerable, bare and awfully exposed with his ass raised in the air.

But he was also extremely turned on.

Minho loomed over him from behind, one hand supporting on Jisung’s narrow hips while he used the other to guide himself back into the welcoming heat. Han couldn’t help the pleased groan that slipped from his mouth when Minho pushed into him again, the sound intertwining with a soft curse leaving Minho’s lips. The pressure was still there, stretching him almost unbearably, but Minho placed a reassuring hand on the small of Han’s back, making him curve his spine ever so slightly and there was a sudden release of tension and he felt Minho slip in completely, deep enough that he could feel the bones of Minho’s pelvis resting against his ass. Jisung whimpered again, biting his lip as he adjusted to so much of Minho inside him.

“You did it.” Minho praised, leaning over to kiss Han’s shoulder,

Jisung could feel tears in his eyes again, but this time they were of accomplishment, and he felt stupid when he let out an actual sob. He was just overwhelmed. He was tangled in a web of pain and pleasure and pride that overflowed as salty tears running down his face. He was also finally connected to Minho so deeply and intimately and he never wanted to forget how complete he felt right then.

“Sungie,” Minho called gently, so attuned to the younger that he couldn’t have missed the cry Jisung tried to bury into the mattress. He wrapped his arms around Jisung’s chest and pulled him back, never disconnecting where they were joined delightfully at the hips while he helped Jisung lean back against him. His whole front side was pressed to Jisung’s back and he grabbed Han’s chin and tilted it back so he could capture his lips in a sweet kiss. He thumbed away one of the tracks of tears running down his full cheeks. He peppered kisses all over what he could reach of Jisung’s face and neck and shoulder’s while he whispered sweet nothings into his skin, delicate praises that he knew Jisung would get a thrill from.

Jisung’s heart swelled at the tender treatment. He knew Minho was close to desperation, he could hear it in the strain of his voice and feel it in the way his thighs trembled behind him as he fought himself to keep still. The tears eventually stopped running and Jisung leant forward just enough to reach the headboard, bracing himself with locked arms as he said carefully, “You can move now,” His voice was hoarse, “Just, slowly.”

“Of course, Sungie,” Minho promised and dragged his hands lovingly up Jisung’s sides, caressing the smooth skin over his ribs and brushing his sensitive nipples before they travelled back down and settled on Jisung’s thin hips. Minho drew back shallowly, barely pulling out before pushing back in deeply, groaning because even that small movement felt heavenly.

Jisung hummed at the strange feeling but didn’t protest. So, Minho did it again. And again. And again.

Eventually, the painful hunch in his Jisung’s back eased and he welcomed the hips pressing into his, using his arms where they were braced against the headboard to rock back slightly. “’s good,” Jisung muttered, eyes still squeezed shut.

Minho took the hint and pulled out further this time, nearly to the tip before thrusting in a bit more forcefully. Jisung whimpered in pained delight and released his arms until his chest fell back to the bed. The bend in his hips let Minho slip deeper again, the elder even going so far as to grab Han’s ass and spread him gently to press in further and harder.

“I’m not going to last long today, Sung. You feel too good.”

It was true. Minho could already feel the coil tightening. He was too overcome with the sweltering heat of Jisung wrapped around him, Jisung’s whines were enchanting his ears and the salty taste of the younger’s skin was driving him to nip and suck all he could reach.

Jisung simply let out another whimper at the compliment, he loved being praised. Honestly, nothing was hotter than Minho stroking his ego and Jisung let it show. He cried in pleasure when Minho started thrusting more forcefully, an accompanying adoration about how good he was tumbling from the elder’s lips with every push of his hips.

Jisung was loud.

This was a fact no one would argue. But Minho couldn’t believe the sounds the younger was making now. The salacious moans had the hair standing up on the back of his neck and it made him want to go harder and faster and all night long.

But his strength was already faltering as he could feel himself edging closer and closer to orgasm.

Not without Jisung coming first.

Minho took a hand and reached under them, wrapping his fingers around Jisung’s dick and without hesitation started pumping in rhythm with his thrusts. The new keening this elicited from Jisung made Minho lightheaded as it also sent new delighted sensations straight to his groin and he wished desperately that he was facing Jisung so he could kiss him.

So, he risked it. Hoping that the other was open enough to receive him now.

Minho quickly pulled out and flipped Jisung onto his back again, taking up the same position as before with Jisung’s legs tight around his waist. When he pushed back in, Jisung cried out high in his throat but didn’t object when Minho buried himself as deeply as he could.

In a brief moment of eye contact, before his eyes fluttered shut again, Jisung felt his heart quiver at the unmasked desire in Minho’s eyes, both vulnerable and primal in his need.

Then Minho closed the distance he despised and placed his mouth over Han’s. He quickly picked up the same solid pace, rolling his hips over and over into Han’s while taking the younger’s dick in his hand. Jisung kissed back just as aggressively, albeit it was difficult between the moans still spilling from his mouth. His hand had made it into the elder’s hair tugging just a bit too forcefully but neither seemed to care or notice this close to ecstasy.

Despite trying as they did, the kiss quickly devolved until it was just them sharing airspace, mouths a breadth apart puffing warm, condensation heavy air between them, Minho groaning and Jisung whining in increasingly strained voices. Both sets of eyes squeezed painfully tight as they chased their orgasm.

When Minho thought he couldn’t take any more and he wouldn’t be able to hold out, Jisung cried out. His body stilled and his insides squeezed dangerously around Minho, strings of white spilling onto both their stomachs. Minho opened his eyes in time to see the pure look of devastation on Jisung’s features as he came. He continued to thrust eagerly, never letting his rhythm waver as he helped Jisung ride out his orgasm.

Once Jisung was on the verge of tears from over sensitisation, Minho let his softening dick go and grabbed the younger’s waist in a bruising grip, thrusting one more time before settling himself deep and letting out his own yell as he came. He stayed there for a moment, letting spots fill his vision as the orgasm ripped through his body and left him delirious, head falling to Jisung’s shoulder as his strength failed him.

Even after his vision returned, it took a couple of deep breaths before Minho was able to steady himself enough to lean back. He pulled himself out of Jisung slowly, the stimulus still tingled along his sensitive dick.

The younger moaned at the strange sensation as well, he was horribly wrecked and sensitive in places he didn’t know could feel sore. His heart was racing, and he was panting heavily, just as badly as Minho. Yet, despite his body struggling with exhaustion and the dull pain making itself well-known at his lower spine, his mind was astonishingly peaceful.

Jisung did not regret his choice at all.

Minho pulled the condom off, tying it and tossing it in the direction of Jisung’s waste bin. The younger was a slob, so if he missed, he couldn’t find it in him to care right then. He planned on grabbing some tissues and doing the proper thing in helping clean Jisung up, be he let his fatigue win momentarily and flopped onto his back beside Jisung. The younger had stretched himself out and was staring unfocused at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

When Jisung could finally trust his voice again, he whispered dumbfounded, “I’d do that again.”

Minho let out a breathless laugh and nodded, “I’m glad to hear that because wow.” He turned his head to Jisung, “And now I know you liked it, we can do more next time.”

Jisung gulped, “More?”

Minho’s eyes twinkled, “For starters, I think you’d be really good at riding my dick.”

It was said with such burning that Jisung didn’t want to think what the other had in mind. Before he had time to ponder the possibilities, Minho let out a tired groan and rolled off the bed. He grabbed some tissue and a pair of boxers for each of them, helping wipe off the mess on both their stomachs and gently removing some of the lube still glistening at Jisung’s rear. The younger squirmed a bit at that last part. Then Minho tossed the clean underwear unceremoniously at Jisung’s face while slipping on his own. He snuck out of the room for a moment and Jisung could only pout at his lack of presence while he struggled to pull back on his underwear. Then the door opened back up and Minho came in with a cup of water and a box of ibuprofen.

“Here,” Minho offered,

Jisung tried to protest but he came over to the bed and pressed both into Jisung’s hands anyway,

“You can deny all you want but I have been where you are and I know that shit hurts.”

Jisung went to object more, but when Minho helped him to sit up he couldn’t hide the wince that crossed his face at the dull ache in his lower back. He relented, popping a couple of tablets in his mouth and downing the water.

Minho smiled satisfied and ruffled his hair, the younger swatting him away playfully and failing back to bed.

“When you can find it in you to stand, I can help you wash up properly. But first, I’m thinking of fried chicken?”

Jisung was thinking a nap sounded good right then actually, but at the thought of food his stomach let out a low rumble.

Minho giggled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Jisung nodded sheepishly, a grin on his face.

Minho grabbed his phone to order the food, jumping back onto the bed and settling into Jisung’s side, he rested his head on Jisung’s chest and tossed a leg around the other’s waist. The younger readily accepted the contact, fingers running soothingly down Minho’s spine.

“Food will be about thirty minutes, so that means we have a bit of time to nap.”

“Sounds good,” Jisung replied with a yawn, pressing his nose to Minho’s hair. It was damp with sweat but still smelt fruity, in that Minho sort of way that brought Jisung comfort as he quickly let sleep wash over him.

Minho was just as drowsy as he cuddled the younger. He was just drifting off himself when he thought he may have heard three lazy, quiet words,

“I love you.”

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys… It’s been a while, hey?
> 
> Exams hit and then I went straight into after-hours work, so my day-night schedule has been switched leaving me a little exhausted and unenthused to use any brainpower to edit. i.e. I spent my time binge reading through the Minsung tag rather than writing my own……. woops…. Plus, I really wanted this chapter to be perfect, I muddled with that last scene a couple hundred times…… And I just had to add the ‘prettier’ scene after the lightstick vlive.
> 
> Thanks for your patience, I hope you enjoyed <3


	14. Want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is a back pressed against a bathroom door, frantic hands clawing and tugging, lips hungry and body craving release.

“Fuck,” Jisung groaned as his back hit the closed door, the pain along his shoulder blades not an unwelcome burn as the sensation mixed with the adrenalin coursing through his body.

Then Minho’s lips were pressed to his, eager as they nipped and sucked in frantic demand for all Jisung had to offer. Jisung’s hands were in Minho’s hair, at his nape, running down his back and tugging at his shirt. Desperate in his own desire.

_Want, want, want, _chanted through his head as he arched into Minho’s rough touches.

Han wanted more. More of what? Of everything.

That same cascade of desire was washing through Minho. His whole body shuddered with every touch from Jisung, the younger running hot lips down his neck and his head tilted to easily accommodate them.

Minho wanted more too.

He wanted more than a dingy bathroom. He wanted more than these stolen moments at parties. He wanted more than a cramped backseat of his car. He wanted to lay Jisung out on a bed and take his time. He wanted to worship the younger’s body and taste every piece of skin. He wanted to make Jisung his, in every sense of the word, until the younger was trembling beneath him with need and pleasure. And then he wanted to hold his hand and softly kiss him. And maybe tell him something too, something he couldn’t quite voice yet, something just dancing on the tip of his tongue.

But _want_ could only get them so far.

So, when Minho’s hands grasped at the hem of Jisung’s shirt, trying to pull it off to reach some of that addictive tan skin underneath, he was surprised when he was pushed away instead.

“No time,” Han panted out in apology, lips still ghosting along Minho’s jugular, feeling the strong pulse underneath.

Minho nodded at his words, slowly retracting his knee from where it had been pressing between Jisung’s legs, coaxing the growing bulge and making Jisung whine into his neck. “What did you want then?”

The younger’s fingers travelled down and danced with Minho’s fly, palm pressing just enough to feel the erection within and make Minho squirm, “Wanna suck you off.”

Minho’s eyes widened at the candour, but he was quick to respond to that needy lust in Jisung’s voice, “Okay.” He croaked out, legs twitching just a little.

Over the past three months, Jisung had gone from giving his first nervous blow job – where his eyes sought Minho’s every second for confirmation he was doing the right thing, with a shy blush gracing his cheeks the whole time – to getting Minho off in a couple of minutes – a smile teasing at the corners of his stretched lips, confident in the way he flicked his tongue, humming and swallowing just right.

Jisung wasted no time in dropping to his knees and shucking Minho’s pants and underwear down to his thighs. Then Minho was writhing and moaning with his back against the sink, hands gripping painfully at the marble surface to keep his legs from giving way, overwhelmed by the warm, wet sensation of Jisung’s mouth on him, one of the younger’s hands on his thigh grounding them both.

It was rushed and heated and filled with days of pent up lust crashing down upon them. It had been a couple of weeks since they’d been able to find some time alone together for more than a minute. The middle of the university year had called for more hours spent in the studio and the library and with their friends drawing upon them for emotional support it left little time for much else. So, as much as that _want, want, want, _begged to do more, neither of them was brave enough to slow down in case this moment was all they had.

Too soon Jisung’s name slipped off Minho’s lips in a hiss, hips stuttering their shallow thrusting as he spilled into the younger’s eager mouth.

His gaze drifted down to the young man in front of him, watching as he swallowed around him, before pulling back, letting Minho fall from his mouth and his hand fall from where it had been gripping tightly to Minho’s thigh. Han’s big brown eyes were as endearing as ever - even while full of unshed tears from the work against his throat, with fat droplets caught in his eyelashes as he worked to regain his breath - they were shining bright with pride from Minho’s airy compliments.

In return, Minho’s eyes carried a future promise for more, the fondness within trying to convey just how much he wanted more. Their earnest eyes locked with a sincerity not quite fitting their current situation, a warm smile gracing both their lips despite the heavy tension of sex still within the air.

Minho’s hands finally released the benchtop and came to cup Jisung’s plush cheeks, rubbing soothing circles into the boy’s sore jaw and brushing off a few of the loosening tears. Before he could praise the younger boy more, Han let out a shaky whimper.

Minho’s sight passed the wide brown eyes and bruised lips down to Jisung’s lap, where his jeans looked hastily tugged low on his hips while he was hastily pumping himself to a frenzy, releasing quiet cries from his – now empty – rosy lips.

“Let me.” Minho’s voice broke, still breathless with a throat dry from his own moans.

He helped pull Jisung up, hands under his arms and heaving until the younger was perched on the edge of the marble counter. His hand knocked aside Jisung’s, pumping a few more times until the younger was quickly unravelling under his touch. Minho’s lips swallowed Jisung’s gasp as he spilled onto his hand, panting into Minho’s mouth as he came down from his high.

The moment was over as quickly as it started. But that _want, want, want_ wasn’t yet settled. Jisung could feel it deep within his bones, that yearning for more lingering even as they cleaned themselves up, delightfully spent.

As always, they took a moment to just revel in each other, Minho’s lips finding their way back to Jisung’s neck. He placed feather-light kisses to the sensitive skin as he buried his nose into the crook of Jisung’s shoulder, breathing in deep the familiar scent of the younger boy, “I missed you,” slipped quietly from his mouth.

Jisung almost didn’t catch it, his focus on running his fingers through the short tufts of hair at Minho’s nape, but the breathy words just graced his ears, replying with his own, “I missed you too.”

Jisung pulled at Minho’s chin, bringing his mouth back over so he could kiss him lazily and lovingly and when he pulled back, he looked the elder in the eyes, eyes that were still overflowing with so much fondness that Jisung couldn’t help the next words falling out his mouth.

“I love you.”

The words scorched their way through Minho’s entire being. They made his stomach flutter and his head spin. But they also made his heartrate spike and his palms sweaty and he was burning under the hopeful look in Jisung’s eyes.

He realised what it was then, the last thing he wanted.

He so desperately wanted to say those three little words, always nagging at the back of his mind, taunting so dangerously close to freedom, but always choking before they came out.

He wanted to tell Jisung that he’d loved him for so long and he wanted nothing more than to spend forever with him.

But Jisung was easy with his words.

The word _love_ drifted off his lips all the time. Everyone in their group had heard the word directed towards them from Jisung more than once. It was so unbelievably easy for Jisung to say that four-letter word while Minho struggled to even think it.

Minho knew exactly what he felt in his heart. But if he said it back, that would bring them to the next step. The next step that he still couldn’t trust Jisung with. The next step that brought him an unhealthy amount of fear.

So, Minho froze, tensing under the younger’s hands.

Despite the sincerity he could see burning behind Jisung’s eyes, he let his fear consume him and evaded those three words, saying instead, “We’ve been in here too long. I think I should go.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jisung said quietly, releasing his hands where they were still locked behind Minho’s head.

He watched quietly as Minho quickly checked himself in the mirror one last time before hurriedly slipping out the door without so much as a backward glance. The whole time Jisung found a nasty feeling twisting its way into his gut. He just couldn’t quite place what it was. So, he watched with solemn eyes as Minho went back into the party first.

He knew he wanted to follow him.

He knew he wanted to hold him just a bit longer.

He knew he wanted Minho.

But he also knew he was weak and wanted things to stay safe and where he could control them. And if he chased Minho down in the middle of the party, what they had together would no longer be _theirs_.

While it was theirs, it was safe, and it was easy. And Jisung just wanted to love Minho from his perfect little bubble just a bit longer. Even despite it going against everything he knew Minho wanted.

Han felt a selfish shame was over him at that thought, but he also felt a drop of fear.

The fear that had been growing with every new bead of insecurity he felt with Minho, the one that had him worried that Minho wouldn’t wait for him. That fear that Minho would realise what a coward he was and would drop him without a second thought.

But worst of all was the fear that maybe he would never be ready, and Minho would still stay by his side humouring him and waiting with hope that would never come to fruition. And that scared Han the most because he loved Minho and he couldn’t bear the thought of dragging him along forever, baiting him with the chance that one day they would be more when that might never happen.

His mind replayed the look on Minho’s face after he said, _I love you_. He was terrified because he couldn’t work off the turmoil of emotions in Minho’s gaze because there was none. His expression was flat, as composed as always. His voice was empty too. The only sign that he reacted at all was the way Minho froze under his touch, Jisung’s fingers still feeling the ghost of tense muscles. That little sign was of no help to Jisung, it betrayed none of the elder’s thoughts and Jisung was just as clueless as to where Minho stood.

With a heavy sigh, he picked himself off the counter and looked at himself in the mirror. Placing a small smile on his face he slipped back out to the party. The mindless chatter quickly filled his ears and with every lock of eyes with a nameless face, he let his fear consume him just a bit. As always, the fear of coming out won and squashed all his thoughts of Minho and his heart thumped and his throat caught as he pictured those nameless people taunting him and degrading him and telling him that the way he was was wrong.

So, for now, he could _want _for just a bit longer.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you didn't see that coming from the chapter summary, hey?
> 
> Yeah. This chapter was a mess to get out. I ended up doing nothing to change it from how it initially was because I just couldn't figure out what it was that missing. I still don't know. But I figured I better just post it and move on.
> 
> Thanks for the warm wishes after the last chapter!!! As always I appreciate your support ^-^


	15. Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is hushed voices at 2 am in the morning when everyone else is asleep and you can voice your frustrations and let your heart bleed itself dry without peering eyes and ears.

The _want_ didn’t last long.

Soon it was replaced with _need_.

A bone-crushing need to have Minho.

Jisung thought after they had sex something would have changed between them. Something had certainly changed within him and he thought after months of whatever it was that they had together, it would have evolved to something more for both of them. But Jisung couldn’t help the nagging feeling that the scales were tipped to one side and he was on the losing end.

It frustrated Jisung to no end.

But to be honest, he wasn’t sure why.

When he actually stopped to think about it, he wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting. From the start, he’d been the one to say he wanted just to try this. He’d asked for Minho to keep it secret. He’d asked for Minho to offer his heart so vulnerably to Jisung with the hopes that he wouldn’t just crush it when he got bored and said no more. And he was the one too afraid to walk to the table at lunch, grab Minho’s hand and place their linked fingers together on the top of the table for everyone to see.

If he was thinking clearly, it was obvious that Minho didn’t flaunt his sexuality and as far as everyone knew Jisung was straight. So, in the small hours of the morning, he was struck with the depressing epiphany that with the way things were, how could they be something more?

It didn’t stop the uncertainty that pooled in his mind and muddle every moment they spent together until he was second-guessing every word and every touch.

With twitching fingers and aching loneliness blossoming in his chest, Jisung rolled over, dragging himself out of his blanket cocoon and grabbed his phone, squinting at the brightness to see it was nearly two in the morning.

There was a doubt crushing him, making it hard to breathe as he thought that it maybe wasn’t just a cautious reluctance stopping Minho from moving forward, but actually his friend had realised that they weren’t destined for anything more than what they already had and he hadn’t responded to Jisung’s heartfelt words because he actually felt nothing in return.

Jisung wasn’t sure why that thought hurt as much as it did. They both agreed that no matter what happened in their trial – experimentation? – that whatever they felt for each other would not affect their friendship. Yet, he couldn’t help but think that he was an idiot for not listening to Minho’s worries at the start because he was starting to realise that was never going to be possible.

He drummed his fingers against the mobile in his hands for a few minutes before letting out a long sigh and unlocking the device. He tapped a couple of buttons before rolling to his side, phone pressed to his ear and waited for the call to connect.

The dial tone cut off abruptly to the sound of covers rustling before a rough voice cut throughout Jisung’s speaker, heavy with sleep but still loud in the quiet morning, “Sung?”

Han’s breath hitched and he let out another sigh before replying, “Min,”

The voice sounded significantly more awake as Minho registered the desperation in Han’s tone, “Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m okay,” It was mostly true, “I’m in bed. I just- I wanted to speak with you.”

The worry that had shot up Minho’s spine lessened, and he sunk back into bed, speaking quietly as not to disturb Changbin where he was tucked up across the room. The calming of his panic didn’t stop him from bristling, an unavoidable hint of annoyance lacing his tone from the unexpected wake-up call, “At two in the morning?”

“I- um,” Jisung struggled around his words,

“Sung, you sure you’re okay?” Maybe the concern hadn’t completely left Minho yet,

“Yeah,” Jisung said breathlessly, then added, “What are we?”

Silence answered him.

When it continued to drag on, Jisung was sure that Minho had fallen asleep and was about to give up on his spontaneous call when instead he was awarded the sound of more rustling as Minho adjusted under his covers, the elder let out a grunt that turned into a yawn.

So Jisung waited, listening to Minho mumble under his breath a bit more before finally responding to the younger’s question, “What do you mean?”

“Us. What are we?”

Minho let out a huff, mind working incredibly slow at the early hour, “Jisung,” His tone held a hint of warning, “It is two in the morning. I have a supervisor meeting at eight. I don’t have time for whatever this is.”

“Sorry,” Jisung immediately deflated,

Minho groaned, hearing the sad tone and picturing the pout through the phone, “If something is bothering you just say it.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Jisung steeled himself, but his voice still came out a bit weary, “I want to know what we are. I know you’re my friend, my soulmate, whatever. But after this between us, I just feel like I’m the only one . . . committed?” Jisung trailed off.

“Sung,” His voice softened considerably, “You really think I’m not invested in us?”

“I don’t know,” Jisung fiddled with a loose thread on his pillow, “Maybe.”

“Idiot.”

Han couldn’t find it in him to be upset as he knew the word held a pinch of endearment.

“Why would you think that?”

Jisung pursed his lips, “It just feels that when we’re together – just us – you just want to, like, get off then get out.”

Minho let the words settle for a moment before speaking up, “W-what made you think that?”

Jisung bit his lip and let out something akin to a whine, “Because of the other day, at Chan’s party, when I said . . .” He blushed remembering the way the words slipped too easily off his tongue, “When I said what I said, you left so quickly.”

Minho remained silent.

“I just feel that every time I take a step closer to you, you always pull back.”

Minho hummed again, “I’m sorry you feel that way, you just . . . took me by surprise. I just wasn’t expecting it so soon.”

“Oh,” Jisung’s voice came out small, “Do you not . . . feel the same?”

He heard Minho’s shaky breath through the line, “I care about you a lot,”

“But you don’t love me.” Jisung cut in before he could say more,

Minho groaned out a small irritated sound, “It’s not that. Look you know I’m bad with words.”

“It’s not that hard,” Jisung protested, he could feel frustration growing in him too, “Either you feel the same or you don’t. I just need to know where we stand.”

Minho scoffed, “That’s a bit hypocritical isn’t it?”

“What do you mean?”

Minho’s voice was flat with an edge that Jisung didn’t like, “That you’re pissed at me for not doing more while simultaneously denying what you are feeling.”

Han blinked in confusion a couple of times, knowing that Minho wouldn’t see it, before asking him, “What are you talking about?”

“You think that saying you love me while high in the afterglow of sex is the same as you accepting how you feel about me?”

Han hummed, nodding his head into the phone, “Well, yeah.”

“God,” Han heard the rustling again as if Minho was thrashing about, “I don’t know what I see in you.”

“Wait.” Han had an epiphany – at least he thought he did – “You think I only said what I said because I was in a post-sex high?”

Minho ignored the accusing and baffled tone, “I think it helped you say it, but no, I don’t think that was the only reason. I think you do feel something for me, but come on, you really think you’re ready for that step?”

“Of course,”

“Then you are an actual idiot.” This time Jisung could hear some actual spite in those words, “What do you want from this, Han Jisung?”

God, how he hated every time Minho used his full name. “From this?”

“This phone call. This relationship. From me.”

“I-I just want to know you feel the same,”

“That’s it? You want me to say, ‘I love you’?”

Jisung could hear something in his tone, and he thought he was walking into a trap, “Yeah.”

“There’s nothing else you want?”

Definitely a trap. “N-no.”

Minho sighed, disappointment clear in his voice, “Then you’re not ready to hear it.”

“What? Why?”

“I told you. I told you what I wanted, what I needed, and you just can’t give me that yet.” Minho’s voice was sad and Jisung found that worse than the anger, “So that’s why I won’t say it.”

Han bristled in response, finding himself getting unreasonably angry, “That’s stupid. If you feel the same way then who cares whether everyone else knows or not. This is between us.”

“Jisung,” It was that same warning tone,

“You’re a coward.” Han hated when he let his fury drive his actions, he hadn’t done it for a long time, but it was late and he was tired and exasperated from the circles he and Minho constantly ran around each other, “You were a coward getting into this with me and you’re a coward now.”

Even with all the space separating them, only the pitchy phone line connecting them, Jisung could feel the change in Minho. He could feel it in the way his breathing shifted. He could feel it in the tense silence that followed his harsh words. And before a single word was uttered, he knew Minho was pissed.

Han couldn’t help the flinch that overtook his body as he pictured Minho sitting bolt right up in bed at his words, raising his own voice to practically yell into the phone, “No. You’re a coward, Jisung.” Then obviously he caught himself and remembered Changbin was in his room because he quickly lowered his voice, but the anger was still clearly behind his words, “You are lying to yourself and you’re lying to your friends. And until you wake up from this delusion you are living in, things are never going to change between us.”

Han choked as the words hit him.

“And maybe you’re right, maybe I am holding back. But you can’t lie to me and say you’re not doing the exact same thing. If I was smarter, I probably would have stopped whatever this is between us weeks ago because I knew right from the start that you weren’t ready for it.”

Jisung gulped and bit his lip to stop it from trembling.

“You are a child. I always knew it. But now it’s painfully clear how much so and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep lying to myself and pretending you are anything else.”

Jisung could hear heavy breathing through the phone as Minho caught his breath after his explosion and he took a moment to compose his own breathing before speaking up, “Min-”

Minho cut him off too quickly, “I’m tired, Jisung. And obviously not in the right headspace for this.” That was clear. Han could hear the exhaustion lacing his words after his outburst, but there was still a heat simmering behind his words, “You know I care for you. You are my soulmate. But what we have right now won’t always be enough. So just . . . think about that and- and I don’t know when I’ll see you next. Night.”

The line went dead.

Jisung felt an emptiness swallow him. It was different from the one he started the night with. This one made him feel anger and guilt and most overwhelmingly . . . regret.

He didn’t know how long he looked at the blank screen of his phone as if it would lighten up with another call. A call where Minho would take it back, he’d retract everything he said and say he was wrong, and he loved him. Jisung was a dreamer and a wishful thinker but it wasn’t enough this time.

Jisung knew he wouldn’t call.

Because Minho was right.

Everything that could happen between them rested on his shoulders.

And right now, he was worried he wasn’t – no, he knew he wasn’t – strong enough to carry that weight.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when a trail of heat worked its way down his cheek. The sensation of a matching tear rolling down his other cheek and dripping off his chin jolted him from his stupor. He carefully set his phone back on his bedside table and shuffled down into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He looked numbly up towards the ceiling, ignoring the tracks of tears still steadily falling from the corners of his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to truly cry, not a single sound escaping his constricted throat. Instead, he just let what he was feeling outpour in the form of salty droplets slowly wetting his comforter.

He’s not sure how long he laid there before he could feel exhaustion pulling heavily at his eyelids, finally drawing them closed as the last of his tears dried.

He hated that spiteful part of himself that hoped Minho was still awake, stewing in a flood of his own negative emotions like Han had because Jisung knew everything that had gone wrong between them was all his own fault.

But most of all he hated that even after everything that was said, he still badly needed Minho.

🐿️


	16. Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is rough sex in the back of the car; the kind that fogs up windows and rocks the vehicle in an obnoxious way; the kind that leaves you sweaty and breathless and aching.

Jisung had never been more thankful for his shitty, off-campus sharehouse than when he had an excuse to demand lifts home from Minho. Yes, he first agreed to live at the derelict house with Hyunjin because it offered his own private room, something you could not get cheaply with accommodation on campus. But those few times where he missed the last bus and had to walk home had him reconsidering his choice. Especially in the heart of winter.

So, when Minho let slip about his new car, angels sang in Jisung’s mind at the promise of a warm ride home.

Fast forward a few months and no persuasion was needed because Minho’s carpool service accepted a payment Jisung was more than happy to hand out. It’s not like anyone ever paid heed to the fact that despite being a ten-minute drive from campus, it always took them far, far longer to arrive at Jisung’s house.

He felt such a thrill getting sucked off in the passenger seat of Minho’s sedan, face in clear view of the outside world such that if someone looked in the car’s windows they’d see his face contorted in pleasure, mouth open as he moaned Minho’s name in praise, and all it would take would be for the onlooker to take a few steps closer to know exactly what was happening behind the foggy glass.

One day Jisung would question himself about whether he had a small exhibitionist kink, but he wouldn’t mind if he did, because obviously Minho did too.

This became a routine.

Thursday night.

It was the most consistent time they’d been able to meet up alone since the thing between them started. Both had late classes that finished at 8 pm, meaning no part-time work and the perfect excuse to spend time together. With giddy smiles and standing - a strategically measured - two feet apart as they walked together to Minho’s car, it became a real-world escape for them.

It also became a learning experience.

For them both.

Jisung had learnt a lot about his body in the backseat of Minho’s car, much to their shared delight.

One evening, in particular, had set the scene for many more to come.

Minho was two fingers deep into Jisung, leisurely curling the digits upwards while he nibbled gently on the younger man’s neck. His other hand was caressing its way across the entirety of the body beneath him, brushing up his sides and along his chest, pulling at his thighs and grazing the heavy burning hardness between them, pressing a thumb into the soft patch of flesh just beneath his balls.

Jisung was shivering, his heavy breathing ending in a low whine every time Minho brushed the pads of his fingertips up – pressing so delicately but so purposefully – on the inside, and his thumb down – with a more powerful force – on the outside, teasing him with the perfect amount of constant pressure that he couldn’t stop the tremors running through him.

The trembling built and built until a full-body shudder flooded his muscles, back arching while a deep moan ripped through his throat. He felt a warm fluid dribbling out and splattering across his stomach, but amongst the immense pleasure clouding his mind, Han knew he hadn’t come yet, the tight coil low in his stomach and still pooling heat between his legs proof of the fact. After a couple more prods where he managed to prolong the quivers running up Jisung’s spine, Minho retracted his fingers to give the boy some time to catch his breath and recover.

Once the aftershock finally died down, Jisung’s body finished its shuddering, he looked down at the mostly clear fluid smeared across his abdomen, then up at Minho with wide questioning doe-eyes, “W-what was that? Was that a-a-”

Minho was looking down at him in wonder, mouth opening and closing before he muttered out, “P-prostate orgasm.” He licked his lips and swallowed harshly, “Fuck, that was really hot. I don’t get them easily. I need some-” He made a jerking motion with his hand, “Too.”

“S-so that’s not normal?” Jisung asked shyly, he was a little embarrassed about how his body had reacted so strongly, even despite Minho’s praise.

“Depends on the person,” Minho explained, “I’ve never been able to get one with just stimulation, you know, in there, but obviously you can.”

Han’s eyes shied away. He couldn’t help feeling self-conscious still.

“This is great,” Minho’s exclaimed, “Because there is no recovery time. Oh God, Sungie. You are so precious.” He brought a hand to Jisung’s face, cupping his cheek so he could draw his gaze, “How did it feel?”

“I-it was nice. Like an orgasm, but not. I don’t know,” His cheeks flushed crimson, “It ran through more of my body, but it’s not quite completely satisfying because I’m still so fucking hard.”

Minho’s eyes flickered down, then back to Jisung’s face, he giggled, “Yeah. You are.”

“Shut up,” Jisung rolled his eyes and shoved his shoulder before saying, “I-I wanna see if I can do it for you sometime.”

“Yeah.” Minho nodded eagerly, “We can definitely try that. It’s all about practice and finding out what feels good because everyone is different,” His smiled turned cocky, “But I think I know exactly how to make you feel good now.”

He pushed his hips forward at that, solidifying his point as he rubbed the desperate heat between their legs together, his hand coming down to tease them too.

“I think I could even get you to come all the way without touching your dick with how sensitive you are.” Minho continued, that devilish grin never leaving his face, “That’d be fun.”

Han hummed, nervous but excited wide eyes flitting about Minho’s face, voice breathless as he replied, “I’d like that, but how about you just get me off the old-fashioned way tonight? I’m getting kinda impatient here.” He punctuated his words with an upwards roll of his hips.

Minho laughed but steadied his grip between them nonetheless, finally touching the aching hardness in relieving pressure and pace, “As you wish.” He quickly jerked them into mindless bliss.

That was weeks ago though, and tonight?

Tonight, Jisung was nervous.

Although they had spoken and joked around like normal with the others, they hadn’t had any face-to-face time alone since that late-night phone call. If any of the others noticed the tense atmosphere between them, thinly veiled behind lame jokes and uneasy physical contact, they chose to keep quiet about it. That didn’t make Jisung feel any less tense as he casually dodged Minho’s attempts to get his attention. He also may or may not be ignoring a chain of messages on his phone, but that was all hearsay.

Deep down it was because Jisung knew he still wasn’t ready to move forward. He hoped desperately that Minho was happy with what they had right now, but with every passing day, he doubted more and more that what he had to offer would be enough. He was still terrified that Minho would start to close himself off. So, Han’s solution? Do it first. The nagging of Chan’s voice in the back of his mind suggesting that there was a more mature way to deal with things was easily ignored with good quality headphones and a daily Spotify mix.

It was with this whirlwind of thoughts clouding his mind, head down as he left his late-night class, that had Jisung jumping in shock when a hand reached out and tapped his arm. He lifted his head in surprise and looked at the man in front of him in disbelief.

Minho.

When he stepped out of the classroom and started his amble towards the closest bus stop, he did not expect Minho waiting for him, as stoic as ever as he leant against the wall, car keys dangling in hand. It really shouldn’t have been a surprise. Thursday night was their night. And he should have realised that Minho was too headstrong to let him get away and avoid him so easily.

There was a hesitant look in Minho’s eyes along with a deep imploring as he let his hand drop from Jisung’s arm, lips pressed together in a thin line. Han took a deep breath and pushed the obnoxious red headphones off his ears, a sign to the elder that he was listening.

“Did you want a ride home?” His voice was incredibly soft, as if not to scare Jisung off, “I heard it was supposed to rain tonight.”

Jisung’s eyes flickered up, barely making out the looming clouds in the night sky, he replied just as hesitantly, “Sure. Lead the way.”

The walk to the car was uncomfortable to say the least. The cold breeze pulled their hair out of place and whipped across their faces until it left cheeks pink, but none of that was worse than the menacing weight laying across both their shoulders. They reached the little blue sedan in silence. Jisung looked at the passenger side door with a wave of apprehension. Once inside he couldn’t blame the wind, or the onlookers, or class.

Once he stepped into that car, he would be vulnerable again.

Minho snapped him from his thoughts, “Are you going to get in?”

Han glanced at him over the roof and his heart gave a pitiful thump at the blatantly obvious pain on Minho’s face. He nodded quickly and pulled open the door, slipping inside with practised ease.

After a couple of beats of stifling silence, Minho spoke up, “Did you want me to just take you home?”

Did he?

Maybe if he did, Minho wouldn’t force him to face his insecurities. But, after the other night, he’d already done that, hadn’t he? There was nothing left to run from. If Minho wanted to end it, there was no way to avoid it.

“No.”

That answer was the surest Jisung had been that night.

Minho let out a deep shuddering breath as if he had been holding it while awaiting an answer, “Okay.”

Silence settled over them once again. The wind whistled as it blew across the hood of the car.

“I’m sorry.”

As usual, Minho was the first one to find the courage to speak up. Jisung looked at him with questioning eyes, “What for?”

“The other night-” He shrunk into the driver’s seat, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly despite the fact the engine wasn’t running, “I said some horrible things. I was just really tired and stressed for my meeting and I know that’s no excuse because you didn’t deserve that but I’m really, really sorry b-because you’re not a child and you are not a coward and- a-and,” He turned to look Jisung in the eyes, “I don’t want this between us to end.”

“I- You- What?” Jisung could only fumble for words while trying to decipher what Minho had just said,

“I’m sorry if I ruined everything. I know I deserve it, but please stop ignoring me, it’s horrible.” Minho finished so quietly Jisung had to strain to hear it.

“I’m not ignoring you,” Han said slowly, still trying to untangle his thoughts over Minho’s words, “Well, I am. But it’s not because of what you think.” His brow furrowed, “You have nothing to apologise for. What you said the other night was true, the hold-up is on me.” Han laughed humourlessly, “I was avoiding you because I thought you were going to dump me. Only, we’re not really dating, are we? So, it’s not even as momentous as that. I thought you were just going to say you couldn’t see me that way anymore, and I thought I’d be left struggling to see you as anything less than what we had.”

Minho’s eyes swung towards Han. He blinked. Once. Twice. “So, you don’t want to end this?”

“Hell, no.”

Then he nodded slowly, “Instead you thought that I wanted to end this?”

“Well, yeah.” Han turned down to look at his hands, playing with his fingers in his lap, “It’s my fault we’re stuck like this. I can’t give you what you want and I know I was being selfish avoiding you, but I felt bad enough knowing I was hurting you by doing nothing that I really couldn’t handle the thought of losing you on top of that.”

“Sungie. It’s not your fault, and I am sorry that I ever made you feel that way.” Minho’s voice was impossibly soft, hands still tensely wringing the wheel between his hands, “If we're being honest, I couldn’t leave you so easily either. So, I guess we’re stuck in this together for now. Please forgive me?”

“You have nothing I need to forgive you for.”

Minho shook his head vehemently, “But I do,”

“Uh uh.” Jisung shoved him lightly, “Apologetic doesn’t suit you. I deserved it. Let’s just move on from that okay?”

Minho let out a childish whine but cut himself off when Han snatched one of his hands off the steering wheel, threading their fingers together lightly. “Okay,” He finally grumbled out.

“Okay,” Han repeated, letting the nerves that had been plaguing him all week settle before asking, “Did you mean it? Is it really that hard to walk away from this?”

He watched as Minho’s mouth drew into a tight line, fingers tightening almost imperceptibly in his, before responding, “Yes. Despite what I may have said in my . . . frustration the other night. Leaving you right now would hurt. A lot.

“But there was some truth behind what I said too, what we have together right now will not always be enough for me. And I might not know when, but a time will come where I’m going to need you to decide whether you want to stand up and be with me or . . . not.”

Minho gave Jisung’s hand a reassuring squeeze then.

“Even if you decide on the latter, I will try to stay by your side and support you through, well, everything. I just don’t know if I will be able to, not initially anyway. Getting over this-” He gestured between them, “Will take some time. No matter what we said at the start, I know I’m in too deep to just go back to being friends so easily.”

Jisung squeezed his hand back and lifted his head, looking at the droplets of water starting to fall on the windscreen, “We’re both idiots then, aren’t we? Because I feel the same way.”

The silence fell over them again while they both looked towards the sky, watching fat raindrops splatter against the glass and work their way down. The wind was still howling outside, but the atmosphere was significantly warmer inside the car from where it started.

Minho gave Jisung a calculating look, biting his lower lip before asking, “Have you thought more about coming out?”

Han sighed heavily, “Only every minute of every day.”

He turned away from the windscreen, putting his other hand over Minho’s, looking down as he just gently played with the fingers now caught between both his hands.

“I might not be ready, but I promise you I am working on it. And right now, I want to feel something other than the way my stomach is doing flips at that thought because we both know you deserve better than that. You deserve someone who will hold your hand in public and give you kisses goodbye and that’s just not me. Yet.”

Minho nodded, eyes also following the gentle movement of Jisung’s fingers, “I want to wait for you, Sung. I want to so badly.”

Han’s fingers froze, and he looked up at Minho through his shaggy fringe, eyes pleading and desperate, “Then do.”

Minho couldn’t hold the eye contact, gaze flicking away guiltily, “I can’t. Not forever. I want you too much.”

“I want you too,”

Minho shook his head, voice tight “I need you to be mine so much it hurts.”

Jisung moved a hand from Minho’s fingers, reaching over until it was resting on Minho’s thigh, “But I am yours.” The emotion he had been forcing down was hovering at the surface, making his voice tremble, “Hurt me too.” His hand gave a gentle squeeze, sliding higher up the strong muscles of Minho’s leg, “Show me how much you need me. Take me.”

Jisung watched as Minho’s eyes darkened, desire mixing in with the hurt, a look he was all too familiar with.

He hadn’t intended to lead the conversation this way. But there was a knot deep in his stomach and he knew of only one ache that could replace it.

Han’s voice broke on the word, “Please.”

Without another word Minho put the car into gear, travelling effortlessly on muscle memory. The second the car stopped, and the handbrake was pulled, Minho growled two words, “Back. Now.”

Jisung complied, shimmying his way between the two front seats with Minho following right behind.

. . .

Jisung ended up with his face – and chest – pressed into the cushion of the backseat, stuck on his elbows as his arms failed him, fingers grasping weakly at the fabric. He was still on his knees, barely. His trembling legs would have failed him too if it weren’t for the support of Minho’s hands tightly gripped at his waist.

He felt so exposed in that position, completely and entirely at Minho’s whim. It was exactly where he wanted to be right then. He wanted to place all his trust in Minho. Needed too. Needed to show him that he meant what he said. He belonged to Minho.

He needed to ache in the ways only Minho could provide.

Minho took his time teasing Jisung, knowing when he was right at the cusp of ecstasy then backing off. He let himself thrust hard and deep, brushing against Jisung’s prostate each time he bottomed out, and each time he did he could feel Jisung’s legs quiver at the sensation as a whimper fell from his lips, muffled against the seat.

Han was sure the little sedan was rocking obnoxiously with the snap of Minho’s hips, the windows long since fogged over while the storm outside picked up too, matching the fervour in the car.

Minho was playing with him.

Listening as the whimpers changed from staccato moans of pleasure with each push of his hips to pained desperate cries as he slowed down his movements, forcing Jisung to rut back against him. Then he’d gradually increase the speed and ferocity that he slammed into Jisung again, making the younger’s head spin.

After a particularly rough run, Minho bucked his hips hard and Jisung yelped, a hand flying back to grab at Minho, scrambling to reach any of him he could while his body tensed.

“_Shit_,” Minho cursed under his breath, pulling out and leaning to look over at Jisung’s face, he didn’t have the time to appreciate at the soft pink flush coating his cheek squashed against the seat, worry too prominent in his voice, “Did I hurt you?”

Jisung let out a small whimper, “A little. It’s okay.” He gave a weak smile, “Just go slow for a bit.”

Minho nodded, worry still lingering in his eyes. He ran his hands over Jisung’s sides, up to his chest and down his spine, feeling the way his skin burned under his touch, circling gently around his nipples and making Jisung twitch. Then he kissed over his shoulders and his neck, pressing a chaste kiss to the side of Jisung’s mouth before ultimately helping Jisung rollover. It was awkward manoeuvring in the cramped back seat, but they managed to get Jisung onto his back, hands under his knees and pulling them firmly against his chest. Minho pressed down on top of him, giving him a slow, wet kiss, resting their foreheads together as he eased himself back in. This time he stayed deep, just rolling his hips in shallow circles while Han relaxed back onto him.

With their heads pressed together he couldn’t look away from the deep pools of coffee, in turn, watching him. The dark eyes that forever had him captivated. Sometimes they were full of mirth and mischief, and sometimes a yearning, blinding pain, but today they were wide with innocence and deep-seated belief, conveying a dependence and trust that shook Minho to his core. The eyes were telling him to do as he pleases. They were telling him that Jisung was vulnerable and compliant to his every whim.

They were telling him that Jisung was _his_.

And that simple conviction refuelled that fire in his belly from moments ago, drawing his back straight and bracing his hands around Jisung’s thighs as he rolled his hips harder. It took a few angle changes, but eventually, Jisung let out a deep shuddering breath, eyes squeezing tight and his toes curled in delight.

“I like that,” He gasped, “It feels good right there.”

Minho pressed light kisses to whatever skin he could reach, namely Jisung’s calf, “Hmmm. I like it too.”

Keeping that same sweet angle, he drove in more forcefully.

“Can you come for me by yourself, babe?” Minho asked softly once Jisung was moaning to himself in a mindless continuum,

Jisung shook his head and whined quietly, “Want you to touch me,”

Minho hummed, “I don’t know if I should,”

There was a cry of protest, but Han couldn’t form any solid words, glaring up as best as he could – it wasn’t very threatening.

Minho raised an eyebrow, smile curling onto his lips at the view of a disgruntled of Jisung, pout firm on his lips, “I thought you wanted to see much I need you? And I need you to come on your own.”

Jisung wanted to complain further. He wanted to wipe that smirk off Minho’s face. But all he could do was let out a lengthy moan. He was so hard, achingly so, and he wanted Minho to stroke him so badly, but the pain was also remedial, punishment for being a coward.

“I told you,” Minho huffed out with a calculated roll of his hips, pressing up exactly where he wanted to and relishing in the way Jisung shuddered under him, “I want you to be mine.”

Jisung wasn’t even sure if they were making sense anymore. All he knew was his mind was clouded and screaming, _Minho, Minho, Minho_. There was no way he could verbalise a response anyway.

Minho slid his hands over Jisung’s hips, following the curve of his pelvis until they were gripping the younger’s inner thighs. They were so close, just a breadth from exactly where Jisung needed him to touch. But it was another tease. He was still thrusting, determined and deep, right on that little bundle of nerves, and Jisung felt actual tears in his eyes as his body shuddered again. Minho knew what his body needed, that constant pressure against his prostate, that teasing and taunting with every prod was winding up the coil in Jisung’s stomach and pulling his body taut.

The sensations were pooling in between his legs, making him twitch hot and heavy and leaking. Minho’s eyes flickered down, watching as Han’s cock jumped, another wave of precum dripping out and onto his stomach.

“That’s it, baby. You can make it up to me by coming all on your own.”

So close.

“Fuck, you feel so good.”

So, so close.

“God, Sungie. You’re too good to me.”

A gasp.

“You’re perfect.”

The coil snapped.

Jisung came. Hard.

He felt his body freeze, muscles stuck in contraction as Minho kept his relentless pace. The whine leaving his mouth was high and drawn out. The sound mixed with the moans coming from Minho as his pace grew sloppy, frantically chasing his own high. A shout escaped him as he quickly followed suit, rolling his hips deeply twice more as he worked himself through the orgasm.

Once the afterglow settled heavy on their shoulders, clouding senses and leaving the world with a warm glow, Minho helped Jisung up so that he was sitting upright against the back seat.

Han was sweaty and breathless and aching.

But it was only in the best way possible as he felt the content hum descend all throughout his body. The night had been cathartic. That constant niggling in his gut momentarily cleansed. Everything else seemed irrelevant when it was just Minho and him, alone in their self-made corner of the world, sheltered from the storm – both raging outside, a rain onslaught against the tin of the car, and in Han’s mind – as they shared a fondness for just living in the moment. Together.

Minho shuffled around the awkward space in the back of the car, pulling out wipes placed conveniently in the back-seat pocket. He took his time in wiping them both down, small fingers unbelievably gentle as they moved over Jisung, tender as they skirted over the still so sensitive skin that trembled from the cool touch.

Then was the long process of sorting through discarded clothes and helping slip them on overtired limbs. Once Minho had pulled the final piece of clothing – Jisung’s soft sweatshirt that Minho had gotten him last year during a shopping trip, no occasion just an undeniable desire to treat the younger – back over Han’s head, he leant back with a soft smile curling up one side of his mouth, eyes trained on Jisung, looking so soft with his flushed cheeks and clothes swallowing his small body. His fingers found their way back into Jisung’s hair for the umpteenth time of the night, only this time instead of tangling and tugging he worked on combing the mussed strands back into place.

Everything just felt right.

The fondness overflowing in Minho’s eyes made Jisung melt all over again. No matter how many times he saw it directed to him, he couldn’t believe how treasured he was.

And at that moment, while Minho looked so happy and content, Jisung couldn’t believe that joy because he knew deep, down Minho still had his own longing and wishes waiting to be fulfilled.

So, Jisung being Jisung, just had to ask something to break the peaceful mood, doubt settling into his voice and worry clouding his eyes, “Are you really happy? Just like this with me.”

Minho cocked his head, gave him an assuring smile and nodded, “For now? Yeah, I am. I meant it when I said I don’t want to lose you.”

Jisung searched his face for any tell, anything to say he was lying, but when he couldn’t find anything, the smile that filled his cheeks and spread up to melt the doubt in his eyes was heart-warming. And maybe Minho didn’t want to stay like this forever, but if he could keep making Jisung smile like that he could hold on just a bit longer.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Jisung said it with such earnest as if the emotion pouring out of his wide almond eyes wasn’t enough.

Then he leaned in for a slow, tender kiss. They had no more energy to work off, so their movements were lazy in its affection, taking turns to map each other’s mouths as if they hadn’t already committed every detail to memory. Han’s hand was cupping Minho’s face delicately, thumb brushing the gorgeous cheekbones he had fallen in love with so long ago without realising. Minho had both hands at his waist, thumbs rubbing in the gentle circles that never failed to soothe the emotional turmoil always bubbling just below the surface of Jisung.

After minutes or hours, neither knew nor cared, Minho pulled back first.

He rubbed the back of his neck as a nervous show, “I think I need to tell you why I can’t move forward like this. Why I’ll wait for you as long as possible, but why I can’t say what you want me to. It has to do with my first boyfriend.”

Han nodded, eyes serious as he held Minho’s hand, thumb rubbing gently over the back, constant pressure and reassurance that he was there.

“He was my first love, I think. At the time it felt that way and I told him so, repeatedly. Looking back, it’s hard to say because the memories are all tainted. I was probably too young to know better anyway. I had only just started accepting who I was back then and only let a few people know. He was in the year above. He was pretty, and I was young and dumb and gay. He wasn’t out. At all. But when he found out I was he showed interest. I was infatuated from day one, and even though he kept blowing me off and insisted we keep everything hidden, I looked past that while he swept me off my feet, taking most of my firsts.”

The look in Minho’s eyes was sad but enduring.

“Then one day, I don’t know how, someone found out about us and it was blasted around the school. He wasn’t ready to come out. He denied everything and said some awful things to me and about me while he was at it. At first, I thought it was just him putting on a show for everyone. It hurt, but I thought what we had was stronger than gossip and that with just us he’d still be the same. He wasn’t. When I went to him, he refused to even speak with me. He was so afraid of them all knowing he was gay that he wouldn’t even look at me. I called him a coward. He called me a fag."

Minho took a deep breath and his head fall back against the seat.

"He graduated at the end of that year and I never spoke to him again.”

Jisung swallowed the stone in his throat, realisation and more guilt dawning, “And I dragged you into that all over again. You’re afraid that if anyone finds out about us that I’ll do what he did.”

Minho didn’t say anything, but it was answer enough.

“Min,” Jisung squeezed his hand harder, “I swear to you I want everyone to know about us. I want nothing more than to scream I love you from the top of my lungs, but no matter how close I get, I am _still_ so afraid that someone else will hear me. You deserve that person who will scream out their feelings from a rooftop and that’s not me yet. But know that I don’t plan on giving up on us that easy. He was a coward for not fighting for you.”

“Sung,” Minho’s eyes were dark with sobering emotion, voice choked, “You have to know I do care about you. A lot. I- ah, I-I,”

Jisung shook his head and cut him off, “Don’t say it. I haven’t earnt it.”

Minho nodded solemnly, giving him a tight-lipped smile, “Thank you, Sungie.”

“No. Thank you for letting me know. I’m sorry I’ve been so shitty to you.”

Minho shook his head, “Not as bad as what I said that night.”

“Uh uh. I’ve already forgiven you that. No more punishing yourself. Okay?”

Minho nodded reluctantly, “Only if you promise me the same.”

Han smiled, his gummy smile that made Minho’s stomach lighten, “Anything for you, babe.”

“Shut up,” Minho elbowed him with a blush high on his cheeks, but he quickly grabbed Jisung’s chin and pulled him in for one last sweet kiss, pouring in all the love and affection he couldn’t yet voice.

As the rain cleared outside, Jisung rejoiced at the satisfying taste of Minho’s mouth on his, his hands loosely clasped at Minho’s neck, drawing his own soothing, delicate circles. He thought that maybe they finally had a proper chance at this. He thought that they’d be able to just enjoy each other and revel in that perfect bubble of just them for the time he needed to get that last bit of courage.

He loved Minho.

And he knew Minho loved him.

Maybe they couldn’t yet shout it out to the world, but all they needed was each other right then, and Jisung was confident then that they could brave anything else together.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo ^-^ Everything is still a bit angsty, and they didn't really solve anything if you look closely hey?? I wonder if Jisung will ever sort his shit out.
> 
> Just an FYI the next chapter is little angsty too. Rated M for mild violence and foul language.


	17. Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is that striking panic that holds you in place as you watch the one you love, unable – or too cowardly – to do anything to stop it.

It was after only three weeks of calm, spent just basking in the newfound fondness they had for each other, before everything crumbled around them again.

There was no way to stop it. The damage had been done.

All Jisung could do was watch and wait, with panicked eyes, as the shit hit the fan.

He could feel the paradise he’d built up slipping away, dancing just beyond his reach, and yet he didn’t have the courage in him to stop it.

Jisung had been on edge all day, heart rate spiking every time he heard Minho’s name, ears acutely aware of every comment and every remark. He swore he could feel eyes on him too, judging him by association. It gnawed at him. Drawing every insecurity back to the surface and making him shrink behind his desk.

Helplessness wrapped around him, suffocating and isolating him from all his classmates. He couldn’t find it in him to fight it. He couldn’t put on a smile. Not today.

It didn’t help when he finally got a response to his morning’s text. _I’ll be okay. I’ll see you at lunch._

As if any of this was okay.

He couldn’t understand how Minho could brush it off so easily. Han _wished_ he could brush things off so easily too. But he couldn’t. And he hadn’t yet seen his friend – boyfriend? – in person yet and that just added to the anxiety making itself known in his chest, pressing on his ribcage and making it hard to breathe.

He hated the way rumours spread like wildfire, greedy as they devastated everything they touched. He hated that they burned indiscriminately, giving no room for explanation or denial. All it took was one spark for the forest to go up in flames around him, and Jisung could only hope that there was something lingering for him in the ashes that would remain.

By the time lunch rolled around he was twitchy and jittery. He practically ran from his last class to the cafeteria, his friends all arriving with matching looks of worry on their faces. They shared tight smiles as polite greetings fell off heavy hearts. No amount of small talk could fill the silence weighing on the table as seven pairs of eyes watched the entrances closely.

Han’s stomach twisted every second he waited for Minho to arrive – despite Chan’s assurances that Minho was a grown man and could look after himself. It was unavoidable. He couldn’t help his own fear leaking into his worry and making the discomfort in his stomach worse. Every negative emotion was doubling down and weighing on him like lead, and if he felt this bad, how was Minho coping?

With nervous eyes flitting between all the entrances in an endless cycle, Han couldn’t help but notice more stares peering towards their table compared to usual. The eyes around him were curious, but quickly snapped away when he had caught them out. No one had been bold enough to accost him yet. None had outright asked if it was true. So, he could only imagine their venom coated words as they talked in hushed whispers across the cafeteria.

The seconds continued to tick by, and his mind went wild thinking of a new horrible possibility with each passing one. Jisung couldn’t help the way he shrunk into his seat, making himself smaller to avoid the looming dread coming to crush him.

Han’s heartrate peaked when a hush washed over the cafeteria, only a few taunting howls and faint hurried whispers breaking the silence. His head snapped up to look across the room, eyes immediately locking with Minho as if drawn by a magnet. His face remained blank, stoic and as closed-off as always, but Jisung could see the uneasiness flash quickly across his features as they locked eyes, the elder crossing the room swiftly to reach the table.

Minho felt guilty, not being able to hold Jisung’s distraught stare. But the raw concern he saw painted so clearly on those wide brown eyes made his stomach flip uncomfortably. He held his head high, ignoring the sting in his heart.

The end was finally here. He’d get his answer once and for all.

And he was petrified of what Jisung would say.

He could ignore the calls directed towards him all day. As if the side-eyed looks and scarcely whispered comments he’d been getting weren’t enough.

He could ignore the not-so-subtle shoves in the hallways.

He could ignore the nasty words scribbled onto paper and left on the desk where he always sat. As if they were back in the childish era of high school and not full-grown adults.

But he couldn’t ignore the fear so painfully obvious on Jisung’s face.

He couldn’t ignore what he knew that fear meant.

Jisung wasn’t ready.

That was by far the worst lesson of the day.

Suddenly, such a high concentration of students, and the thought of having to face Jisung on top, made his stomach clench tighter. Maybe he should have stayed in his dorm until the novelty wore off. It always did. Just after a homophobic asshole or two had their say, loud and obnoxious and difficult to ignore despite how hard he tried.

Maybe he should have stayed away because as he got closer and closer to the table he was increasingly aware that he wasn’t going to be able to just sit there beside Jisung knowing everything was about to end.

He didn’t make it to the table.

“Hey now, pretty boy. Where are you going so quickly?”

There it was. He couldn’t find it in him to be surprised.

Minho rolled his eyes at the solid body that stepped out to block his path. He looked over a broad shoulder to his table. He could see the others watching him with worried eyes. Chan, Changbin and Felix tensing as if ready for a fight, Hyunjin and Jeongin sitting still with guarded expressions and finally Jisung, watching with his deer-caught-in-headlights stare, a tremble running through his body.

“What do you want?” He growled, fixing the guy – Yejun, he thinks - with his most ferocious look, the kind that anyone that knew him would recognise as drop it and let him be,

“Settle down, daffodil. I just want to talk.”

Minho’s jaw tightened, letting the slur roll over his head, never dropping his eye contact,

Yejun raised an eyebrow, “So, it’s true then? We always knew you were a fucking weirdo, but we never thought you were that messed up.”

Minho’s teeth grit as he hissed out, “Messed up?”

The man gave him a disbelieving look, “C’mon, princess. Let’s not play coy. You know how wrong it is. Goes against nature.”

“Tch,” Minho furrowed his brow and rolled his eyes, it was all stuff he’d heard before. He put his hands on his hips and tapped his foot impatiently, “Go on then. Out with the rest of it. I am sure you have more bullshit to spout.”

Yejun scoffed at Minho’s attitude, but continued nonetheless, “Me and the guys have taken it upon ourselves to ask why you’ve been in the male change room every year. It makes us uncomfortable knowing a faggot like you has been watching us.”

Minho let out a dry laugh, “Don’t flatter yourself.” He nodded his head to the rest of the clique behind Yejun too, well aware that the whole cafeteria had gone silent to watch the exchange, “Let’s just say you’re all low hanging fruit, and I’m sure all the girls in this university would also agree with me. Even if you were the only men left on the planet, there would still be zero interest.”

Yejun let out his own humourless laugh in return, eyes hardening, “Fucking fag. I heard you had quite a mouth on you, and I see you’re not afraid to put it to use,” Minho ignored the thinly veiled implications he could feel dripping off those words, along with pure disgust, “But I wasn’t finished yet. I was just saying, shouldn’t some fairy like you be using the girls change room? There you can gossip as much as you want with all the other pretty little things that like to take it up the ass.”

By reflex Minho’s fists tightened at his sides, “Fuck, you really are that ignorant, aren’t you?” He tried to push his way past, eye twitching in irritation, “If that’s all you can come up with, I have places to be.”

Two bodies stepped out this time, catching Minho just before he could pass. Minho looked between Yejun and the man beside him, he didn’t know his name, but the glint in his eye was dangerous, like they’d caught Minho exactly they wanted him.

“Unless-” Yejun spoke up again, his voice laced with faux innocence, “You don’t like it up the ass?” He let out an exaggerated gasp, then his voice dropped low and harsh, “My mistake. I guess it must be that little fag boyfriend of yours who takes it then.”

Minho stiffened at those words, eyes meeting a Cheshire grin while ice filled his veins, “My what?”

The devil smile on Yejun’s face grew, “That little twink of yours. Scrawny looking kid with the round face. The one that writes music.” He raised his eyebrows suggestively while his gaze cut to Minho’s core, “He’s definitely a pillow biter.”

Minho couldn’t stop the way his eyes drifted to Jisung in alarm. The younger was sitting petrified at the table, big brown eyes impossibly wide and his whole body looked close to trembling.

_Jisung_. His heart screamed out. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

It was him they wanted. It was him who was outed. It was supposed to be him they terrorised.

Minho was so shocked that he didn’t see Chan rise from his chair in the corner of his eye.

“I’ve heard him sing too, good set of lungs that kid has.” Yejun moved closer, getting well into Minho’s personal space, “Tell me, does he use that mouth of his as well as you do yours?” He paused, leaning close enough that Minho could fee putrid breath fan against his cheek. Yejun did nothing to drop his volume though, instead proclaiming to the cafeteria, right at Minho’s ear, “I bet Han screams when you fuck his tiny ass.”

Minho stumbled back a step, his eyes snapping to lock with those of the asshole in front of him. Absolute hatred was pouring from him in waves, his tone was full of malice as he said, “Fuck off. Just because you’re jealous he has more talent in his pinkie than you do in your whole body doesn’t mean you have to drag him when your issue is clearly with me and _my_ sexuality.” Minho regained his composure and leant up into Yejun’s face too, “Besides, from that comment, it sounds more to me like you have your own unresolved homosexual fantasies I think you need to address before you come after me.”

“Fucking poofter,” Yejun twitched, white-hot rage filling his features. He was about to say something else, but the sound of heavy footsteps behind him and a voice calling out his name stopped his next slur.

Chan stopped just behind Yejun’s back, Changbin on his left, and Felix lingering just behind them. “That’s it. I think you’ve made your point. Now we all know you are not just a misogynistic asshole, but a homophobic one too. Now, are you going to walk away? Or do I have to call the dean and share that you and your dropkick friends routinely use the clubhouse to get high?”

Yejun’s glare turned to Chan, weighing up his threat before he turned back to Minho. In return, Minho kept eye contact, still refusing to back down. It was a silent dare for Yejun to say something else, trying to urge him into getting called out.

“Whatever.” Yejun finally relented, backing up slowly, “But if I ever catch you looking at me, I won’t let you forget it The is your only warning.”

“Ha. As if I would,” Minho scoffed with a sour look on his face, eyes still throwing daggers, “Now excuse me, but I need to go vomit up my breakfast at such a foul suggestion.”

With that, Minho turned on his heel to stalk out of the cafeteria, all appetite was long gone. He kept his head high, knowing he was a second away from snapping and doing something he would regret – or having a mental breakdown on the floor of the cafeteria, he hadn’t decided which.

He just knew he had to get out of there. He had to draw them away. He had to keep them off Jisung.

Yejun couldn’t believe that Minho would just turn his back to them, so arrogant and impassive. He didn’t see the stiffness in Minho’s shoulders and the way they trembled, he just saw what he wanted to. And when he did, he lost what little control he still had.

In a last-second spur, Yejun surged forward and shoved into Minho from behind. Caught off guard so suddenly, Minho staggered forward, unable to catch himself and ending up sprawled out on the floor, landing hard on his knees. His hands thankfully caught his upper half before his head could connect with the floor.

He froze for a moment, the shock stalling him – and everyone around him – long enough to hear the taunt from behind.

“That’s a good boy, down on all fours where you belong.” He could hear pure glee in Yejun’s tone, “Hey, Hannie. Does he look good like that? Now’s your chance to switch it up, he’s all spread out and waiting for you.”

Something fragmented in Minho’s mind then, and before he could comprehend what happened he was back on his feet, facing Yejun.

Thinking back on that moment, he was sure he saw Chan with a hold on one of Yejun’s arms, keeping him from advancing further, with Changbin standing on Yejun’s other side in case Chan needed a hand.

But at the time, all he saw was that smug face and Jisung’s panicked eyes in the background.

The next thing he knew his hand was burning, pain lacing its way across his knuckles while a satisfied spark settled in his stomach.

Before he had time to rejoice over the sight of blood dropping from Yejun’s split lip, his sight was knocked to the right. His vision was temporarily lost to black as a new pain burst over his face, high across his cheekbone. Blinking away the fuzziness, he regained his sight and saw Felix and Hyunjin with hands on one of Yejun’s friends, the one who had stepped in front of him before.

He had just been punched.

Wait.

Had he just _punched_ someone?

Shaking his head free of the rest of the daze, Minho tried to lunge forward again. He was itching to put a mark on that guy’s face to match Yejun, but before he could, a set of strong arms were holding him back too.

On instinct, he started thrashing, trying to get out of the hold.

He had never punched anyone before.

Oh, God. He felt exhilarated.

No.

He just felt sick.

_Jisung_.

Minho doubled his efforts to escape. He had to retaliate. He couldn’t let them think they’d won.

_Jisung._

“Let me go,” He growled, struggling in whoever’s hold. He felt his elbow clip their head and the hold loosened for a second before locking back onto his upper arms even tighter than before.

“Shit.” He recognised that voice. Changbin. “Calm down,” It was strained, probably due to the fact he was still trying to pull his way free, “We’re trying to help you.”

Minho didn’t stop his fighting though, his pleas to be released mixing with the uproar that was flooding the cafeteria.

“That’s enough!”

Chan’s deep commanding voice silenced the room.

His glare cut straight to Minho, then Yejun’s friend still wriggling in Felix’s and Hyunjin’s grasp and only finally landing on Yejun after he pushed him out from where he was still squirming within Chan’s vice grip, “That means you too.”

Finally, as if a flame with no oxygen, the fight with them died.

“Yejun, I suggest you let this go because everyone here saw you start it. That goes to you as well,” He glared at the guy still in Hyunjin’s and Felix’s hold, “We all saw you throw the first punches and Minho just defending himself. Besides, two against one never looks good. So, I suggest you fucking leave this room before Minho decides to press charges.”

Both the offenders huffed but didn’t say a word. Yejun spat a mouthful of blood to the ground before stalking away, a couple of friends tight on his heels.

Chan then glanced to the room around them, at the collection of phones pointed their way, “I don’t want to see a single video on social media, okay?”

There was a murmur as the crowds turned back in their seats, a sense of normalcy returning as they ignored the remnants of the scene before them.

Once they were mostly alone, Chan dropped his voice, “I’m not saying what he said or did was right, but I expected better from you, Minho.”

Minho gave one more indignant pull, releasing himself from Changbin’s grip. The faces of his friends around him were filled with a mix of concern, surprise and horror. His briefly took a glimpse at their table, where Seungmin was seated next to Jisung with a supportive hand on his shoulder, Jeongin in position on Jisung’s other side.

The last smoulder of the fight was snuffed out of Minho at the sight of the tears pooled in Jisung’s eyes.

_Jisung_.

Oh, right.

Minho’s shoulders sagged in defeat.

This was the end.

Rather than burning hot with rage, he found himself despondent.

And that darkness filled every corner of his being until something dark and wild had to surge out.

“If you think I would ever just stand there and take that, then you’re as dumb as that stupid bleached hair makes you look.”

Chan winced but didn’t say anything else. He recognised the absolute pain in Minho’s eyes, coming out as harsh words instead. His eyes flickered to the bright red mark distorting Minho’s left cheek. “You should go and ice that,” He suggested calmly.

“Tch,” Minho scoffed once more. Then he was stalking out of the cafeteria, relying on the remnants of adrenalin to get him all the way back to his dorm.

Chan placed a hand on Changbin’s shoulder to stop him from immediately chasing his roommate. He shared a quiet word for Changbin to let him know when Minho got home safe, but also to make sure he gave Minho some space to cool down first. Then Changbin was hurriedly trailing after his friend.

The cafeteria slowly filled back with the buzzing of conversation, but Jisung was hollow, not even the sad look Chan sent his way was registering.

Jisung could only stare blankly, fear still holding him in place and twisting his gut so painfully he thought he might be sick, while his remaining friends crowded around him and asked if he was okay.

How could he be okay? All he did was watch.

Despite the relief he felt upon seeing Minho’s face in the cafeteria, he knew he wanted to run up to him and pull him into his arms.

Instead, all he did was watch.

Despite the satisfaction flooding his chest as he saw Minho defend himself, he knew he should be up there defending Minho too.

Instead, all he did was watch.

Despite the pride overriding his senses when his own name came up and Minho was quick to protect him, he knew he should be up there backing up Minho's every word.

Instead, all he did was watch.

And worst of all, when he saw the heartbreak in Minho’s eyes once it was over, he knew with all his heart that all he had to do was stand up and go to Minho’s side to erase it.

It was easy. He just had to stand up. _Stand up_. He screamed at himself.

Instead, all did was watch.

He was a coward.

That truth settled deeply into Jisung's heart. That was the only word that could be used to describe him. Even with everything that had happened, with all the growing he thought he had done, nothing had changed since the start of the year.

And he had never hated himself as much as he did at that moment when he watched Minho stalk out of the cafeteria – shoulder’s high albeit stiff – and he didn’t do anything to follow him.

🐿️


	18. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is the heartache that drives you wild and makes you scream yourself hoarse as you lay in the carnage of your outburst, with the music still blaring to drown out the sound of your sobs.

Jisung flew straight to the closest bathroom the second his feet could carry him again. He slammed the cubicle door behind him and didn’t have time to be disgusted by the state of the room as he threw himself to the floor and was then retching into a toilet bowl. The pressure that had been building all day had finally reached its crescendo in the form of overwhelming panic and unbearable guilt that had twisted his stomach until he couldn’t take it anymore and he was ridding himself of the meagre lunch he’d only just forced down.

He could feel sweat peppering along his brow and down his nape as his stomach tried to empty itself over and over again. He wasn’t sure what it was trying to do, purge him of the fear? The guilt? Because that wasn’t possible. Terror and shame were so ingrained into who he was then that he was sure nothing could ever free him of those negative emotions that he so regrettably called family.

_Coward_.

After a minute, the onslaught of nausea passed, and he was left with dizziness that he could feel morphing into a powerful headache. A headache to match the heartache ripping apart his chest.

Everything hurt.

His mind, body and deep to his soul.

And he hated that he couldn’t fight against that ugly little insecure part of himself that told him he deserved every second of the pain.

_Weak._

_Coward._

“Hannie?”

That was Chan’s voice.

Jisung pressed his palms to his eyes to try and stop the burning as he felt the prickling of tears startup. He couldn’t cry. Not here. Not now.

“Are you okay in there?”

He took in a shaky breath, “I’m fine. Just- Just needed to get away. Needed to be alone for a minute.”

He could sense Chan nodding in understanding beyond the cubicle door, “Can you let me in?”

“It’s okay.” He knew he didn’t sound okay. “I was just coming out anyway.”

He wiped over his mouth one last time, flushing away the evidence before he stood up, brushed himself off and opened the stall door. Chan watched with worried eyes as Han walked over to the sink, eyes purposely downcast so he couldn’t take in his reflection. If he did, he’d see the obvious red starting to swell around his eyes.

Jisung splashed some water on his face, letting it cool the burning of his eyes, but unfortunately did nothing to calm the fire in his mind. _Coward_.

“Did you want to talk about it?”

Of course, Chan wanted to talk. Not everything could be fixed with words though. Some things were unrepairable, like the hole he could feel growing in his chest.

“I just want to go home,” Han said quietly, voice strained and gravelly from waves of stomach acid that had worked up his oesophagus.

“Let me drive you then.”

“No.” Han quickly refused. A ride with Chan would definitely end with talking and he was not ready for that yet. He wasn’t even sure what he could ever say to explain the state of his mind – his heart – over what happened in that cafeteria. “I want to walk. Need the fresh air.”

Chan gave him a tight-lipped smile, “Okay then. Just call if you need anything. You know we’re here for you when you want to talk.”

Han nodded at him, appreciation in his eyes. He knew Chan wouldn’t push him. Not yet.

Jisung stepped forward towards the door, but the moment he passed Chan, the elder put a steady hand on his arm, “I am sorry you had to experience that.” His voice sounded tight, hurt. With the fight over he no longer had to hold the tough image, and Jisung dared a look at his eyes where he could see the crushing worry eating Chan away, “We’re here for you, _both of you_, no matter what.”

Jisung didn’t like the deliberate edge to his tone. But with the overwhelming wave of anxiety fading, he found himself too exhausted to ponder it at that moment.

“Thank you, Chan. I’ll text you later.”

Chan nodded and released his friend, watching as Han drew his hoodie up over his head and slipped through the door.

. . .

The walk home was nowhere near as therapeutic as he hoped. By the time he made it through the front door and kicked off his shoes before creeping into his room, he could feel all the emotions he’d tried to quash down ready to bubble over.

He very carefully closed his bedroom door behind him, slipped his phone out of his pocket and connected it to his speakers as he clicked into whatever playlist was at the top. Bumping up the volume, he let the vibrations of the boosted bass thrum through his body for a couple of counts. Then, under the steady thumping of a kick drum, standing aimless in the centre of his room, he let the first tear track down his cheek. The action of that little water droplet falling from his chin, only to be swallowed by the material of his hoodie, opened the flood gates to bone-crushing sadness and the sudden outpouring of tears was accompanied by horrible shaking sobs.

He could do nothing but stand there and cry as his eyes wrinkled and blurred and his nose started to run. He used the overhanging sleeves of his hoodie to wipe at his face in vain because for every tear rubbed away, another was ready to take its place. The act just irritated his skin further and left him with ugly red blotches across his face to match the pink on his nose and surrounding his eyes.

The whole time all he could think about how it was all his fault.

_Coward_.

If he could have just said something. If he just stood up. If he did anything besides sitting there like the coward he was, he wouldn’t be alone, with only the haunting image of the heartbreak in Minho’s eyes to keep him company.

_Guilty_.

And that guilt made him angry.

Angry at himself.

He deserved the heartbreak wreaking havoc through his chest.

But it wasn’t enough.

That anger had built inside him since the cafeteria, and he could feel it ready to boil over just like the sadness had. The fists that had been clenched at his sides while he cried were itching to do something, to lash out with all that pent-up rage. He needed to punish himself. He needed release.

One rage-distorted, teary-eyed look through his room landed his eyes on his desk. With heavy steps he moved forward and swung an arm across it, sending pens and papers flying to join the mix of clothing already littering the floor.

But it wasn’t enough.

He was so angry and sad and guilty. He located his next target and another two swings of his arms scattered figurines in all directions too. The destruction flooded him with a surge of endorphins, quelling that fight in his body, slowing the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

The catharsis didn’t last long.

He made the mistake of eyeing the Gundam figurine that had split back into pieces during its connection with the floor. The sorrow returned full force as he eyed the broken figurine, one of his most cherished gifts from Minho that the other had gotten him on a whim when they had just started getting to know each other. The disjointed parts were a perfect example of the state of his heart, a mangled mess that had been ripped in two. All by his own doing.

With the new heartache overloading his senses, his legs finally caved in and he joined everything else in the mess that was the floor of his room. Dragging a blanket from his bed, he cocooned himself onto the floor as he cried and cried hidden under the cheerful melody blasting from his speakers.

He wasn’t sure how long he laid in the carnage of his outburst, sniffles and hiccups still rocking his body as his sobs died down and were replaced with new crushing loneliness at the emptiness in his heart. His playlist had started to repeat itself, but he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it, the musical distraction wasn’t doing anything to help him anyway. Not this time. The damage was too much to be cured by an uplifting lyric.

He only looked up from the fragmented figurine still acting against his heart went he heard a little rap on the door, cutting through the bass still reverberating through the room.

He ignored it. His preferred method of dealing with everything.

But the knocks repeated themselves, louder this time.

“Hey,” Hyunjin’s voice was soft, cautious, “It’s been a couple of hours and you haven’t come out. I just wanted to check on you.”

Silence answered him.

“You know I’m just going to come in if you don’t say anything.”

More silence.

“Suit yourself.”

The door cracked open. Jisung still couldn’t find the power to do anything besides bury himself into his blanket, shielding himself from Hyunjin and the rest of the world. From outside his barricade, he heard Hyunjin gasp to himself, most likely taking in the empty shelves and desk that had relocated their contents to the floor. Then he heard the light calculating footsteps as his housemate made his way to the speakers, lowering the music volume first before throwing himself onto Jisung’s bed, the tell-tale signs of sheets rustling making his movement known.

“I think I want to get fried chicken for dinner. Fried chicken always makes everything better.”

Hyunjin’s mindless chatter was answered by a groan from deep within the blanketed mass.

“I know right! There’s just something about the greasy crunch that just solves everything. Hungover? Chicken. Bored? Chicken. Sad?” He kicked at where he thought Han’s side was, “Chicken.”

Han yelped, wriggling around until a mop of messy hair popped out from the blanket, he glared up at Hyunjin, “You’re sounding a bit too much like Woojin.”

Hyunjin shrugged, ignoring the obvious red-rimmed eyes staring him down, “Sometimes the old man is right. But don’t tell him I said that.”

Han didn’t respond, just looked up at his friend curiously. When Hyunjin came in, he was expecting to be grilled on his state of mind, not spoken to casually about dinner. The hollowness in his chest flared again, a subtle reminder that he wasn’t allowed to just talk, he was supposed to be punished. “Are you done? I was in the middle of something.”

“I can see that,” Hyunjin gave a pointed look at the mess on the floor, “It was a good thing I came in when I did. I’m not going to risk losing our bond because you decided an impromptu renovation was in order.”

“Shut up,” Han replied, picking up the nearest pen and launching at his friend on the bed,

“I’m hit!” Hyunjin let free one of his high giggles, dramatically throwing himself back as if he’d been shot when the pen bounced off his chest.

Han scoffed, but let out his own small chuckle nonetheless, that soft sound made its way into Hyunjin’s ear and made him smile just a bit brighter now that he had reached his friend again.

He let the calmer silence settle between them a bit longer before sitting up again and looking at Jisung seriously, “Hey, I just want you to know we don’t believe any of that shit he was spouting. Minho is right, Yejun-” He didn’t miss the way Jisung flinched as the name, “Was just jealous.”

Han nodded, pulling the blanket tighter over his shoulders, then he sighed deeply, “But,” Jisung looked up with such apprehension, taking a few moments to get the next words out, “What if you should?”

“Should what?”

“Believe that _shit-_” Jisung spat the word, “He was spouting.”

“Huh?” He cocked his head. Jisung just looked at Hyunjin silently, eyes pleading for him to understand, “Oh!” It dawned on Hyunjin, his mouth dropped open, “Are you- Are you and Minho . . .?”

Jisung pulled his blanket up over his head again, gnawing at his lip as he started to ramble, “Maybe, sort of. I ruined it because I was so afraid of coming out and he was so patient with me and I just needed more time a- and-“ Hiccups broke up the words, “And now he hates me because I was a coward. I did nothing. I just watched.”

Hyunjin was frozen in shock, mind running through what he just learnt, so focused on the news he didn’t hear the new flood of sniffles break free from his friend.

“I thought you guys were just, like, clingy?” Hyunjin blurted in disbelief, still stuck in place. Sure, at one point he had his speculations, but he quickly squashed them and decided they were just like him. He was by far the worst when it came to initiating affection between his friends.

Jisung just let out a pitiful whine and thrashed a bit in his cacoon.

_Minho and Jisung._

_Together._

“Wow. Okay.”

It honestly shouldn’t have been that surprising. Everyone in their group knew the relationship between them was different. That there was a certain level of adoration they held for each other that just didn’t match the rest of the group. But the news still startled him anyway. Hyunjin may have been immune to the affectionate way that Minho and Jisung clung to each other because he himself was just as bad at demanding attention. But deep down he knew he should have realised there was something more. That he knew why Minho’s familiar touch made Jisung’s breath stutter, or why Minho looked at Jisung more than just a little brother and close platonic friend.

“How long?” He finally asked, genuinely curious. What had he missed? When did things change?

Jisung looked up at him through teary eyes, lip trembling, and Hyunjin finally clicked just how emotionally affected his friend was, his heart breaking at the sadness on Jisung’s face, but he kept his distance to give Jisung space while he explained. “Last year, Felix’s party. We, uh, kissed.”

Hyunjin’s memory tried to recall the party, that was so long ago, and he was pretty drunk then too, “You mean spin the bottle?”

“No,” Jisung bit his lip again, “After that we, we found somewhere quiet. And he kissed me, or I kissed him. I’m not even sure who moved first. But then Felix walked in on us and it sort of scared me and I ran out.”

“Oh my god,” Hyunjin said quietly, he remembered that lunch where Felix had called Minho out,

“Yeah, the room was dark, and he was so drunk he didn’t realise it was me. Shit, I was so scared then.”

They were quiet for a few moments as it really hit Hyunjin how long this had been happening for. It had nearly been a year.

“What happened next?”

“We didn’t really talk again until after the new year. I was so confused. I still sort of am. I didn’t know what I was or what I wanted, but I knew I liked him. It was so fucking surreal. I liked Minho.” Jisung shook his head, “He was worried he had scared me off, he thought I was straight. At that point I thought I was straight too! We both know better now,” That was said while the corner of his mouth twisted in a sad smile, “We didn’t really label anything, I asked him not to, we just started messing about. It was . . . new.”

Hyunjin nodded. He understood. He wouldn’t admit how much he understood, but he did.

“Fuck, Jinnie. I’m so scared. I wanna be with him. I think, like, really be with him. But when everyone found out he was gay, and they just started talking about him without even knowing him, it terrified me. How can I come out to everyone when I can’t even come out to you guys?”

Jisung was crying again, tears silently falling before his voice failed and a choked sob fell out. It was ugly, messy crying. The kind of crying that perfectly matched the absolute turmoil in his mind.

“What if I fuck it up between us and ruin all we have? Ruin things with you guys as well?”

“Hey, hey.” Hyunjin finally joined Jisung on the floor, wrapping long arms around him and rocking him slightly, “You know we won’t judge. At all. We love you, Ji. Both of you. If you . . . If you wanted to be with him, I don’t think it would actually change our group at all.”

Jisung whimpered a bit more before crying out, “Isn’t it weird though?”

“Hmm?”

Jisung buried his face into Hyunjin’s neck and whispered out, “That I love him.”

_Love him_.

The words shocked Hyunjin again, be he quickly brushed them off to encourage his friend, “Not at all. Even without knowing all this. We can all see how close you are.” He squeezed Jisung tighter, he was surprised how ready to admit that Jisung was. But Han had always been upfront with his emotions, up until what he’d started between him and Minho that was.

Jisung buried further into Hyunjin’s shoulder, letting his sobs subside.

Once he was more composed, Hyunjin asked carefully, his curiosity winning out again. “Can I ask how far? How far have you gone?”

Jisung tensed, his hand balling into Hyunjin’s shirt as he whimpered again, shrinking in on himself. It was answer enough, but Jisung said anyway, “All the way.”

“Damn.” Hyunjin blew out a breath, running a hand through his hair. He had missed a lot.

When it didn’t seem like Hyunjin was going to say anything else, Han spoke up, “Please say something else,”

“Oh, yeah, uh. I guess he’s an attractive guy, so it makes sense. I don’t know what he sees in you though.”

Han punched him at that, an ugly wet laugh bubbling up his throat.

“Ow! Okay, okay. I mean, you are both pretty weird. So, you really are made for each other, I guess. I don’t know how we’re going to cope with double the affection between you two though.”

Jisung just nodded and pressed more into his side, “You really don’t think it’s strange?”

“It’s strange that I didn’t figure it out sooner. Now you point it out, it is obvious how gay for each other you are.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m just stating facts.” Hyunjin scoffed,

“Well, I don’t think he’ll like me anymore. Not after what I did today.”

Hyunjin squeezed him again, letting out a deep sigh, “Lunch was pretty brutal. But I think you’ll both be fine.”

“No, we won’t.” Han refuted immediately, “I am a horrible person.”

“Yeah, you are.” Hyunjin agreed but regretted the playful joke when Han didn’t even have the energy to tell him off, “But not because of today. If you really want to be with him, just tell him. I think he’d forgive you. Hell, I don’t even think he’d blame you at all for today. It’s obvious he cares for you. If you just go to him, I think it will sort itself out.”

Jisung glanced up at him, his wide brown eyes vulnerable, and Hyunjin could understand how Minho could fall for such an innocent stare, “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not. But you can’t sit in here for the rest of your life beating yourself up. You gotta nut up or shut up and-”

“Are you quoting Zombieland at me?”

“And! You said you were too scared to come out to us, but you just did it to me, your archnemesis, so-”

“I haven’t called you that in a long time!”

“So!” Hyunjin gave him a glare that said to be quiet and stop interrupting, “I think you have it in you to suck it up and go tell him what he means to you.”

Jisung leant back and crossed his arms, “I hate you, you know?”

“I know.” Hyunjin grinned.

Jisung sighed again.

He knew Hyunjin was right. He had reached the point of no return. He had to do something. He had to say something. He could no longer sit idle while the world moved around him. Over the past two hours of moping, he had come to the unsurprising conclusion that the reason he felt like absolute shit was that he hadn’t been able to accept who he was. And that was as terrifying as always. But the cafeteria had opened him to a new discovery. What was more terrifying than refusing who he was, was losing Minho. Because he knew with all his heart, that who he was, was Minho’s. He knew that losing the boy who he had come to love would be just the same as losing a piece of himself.

With just himself it was easy to wallow in the pain and the guilt. But with Hyunjin there, he couldn’t deny the small flicker of fight in him that hadn’t stopped since the cafeteria, sitting idly by and patiently waiting, all the time begging for him to run after Minho.

“You know, I came here to escape Chan and his advice. Since when were you able to take his place?”

“I happened to have matured a lot, apparently while you were too busy fucking Minho.”

The words hung in the air for a moment too long before Jisung gasped, flushing red and shoving Hyunjin away, “Piss off!”

“And after I was going to offer to help clean your room too.”

“Fine. I take it back,” Jisung lunged back to his side, grabbing an arm, “Help me please.”

“Only if you go speak to him.”

Jisung grumbled under his breath.

“Well?”

“Okay. I’ll do it. Just. Help me clean this up first.”

“Please?”

“Please.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin smiled and helped pull his friend up, eyeing the state of his room, not sure where to start, but he was ready to do whatever to get Jisung back on his feet.

Jisung watched his housemate flit about the room with newfound respect in his eyes. Was there still a crushing weight in his heart? Yes. Did he want to curl up in his bed and cry some more at just the thought of speaking to Minho? Hell yes. But he also knew that Hyunjin was right, and he couldn’t run away any longer, today was the turning point and no matter what went down, things between him and Minho would be different by the time the sun set.

Maybe he hadn’t punished himself enough yet. Maybe he would never forgive himself for sitting uselessly by today. But he knew the first step in his sincere repentance was going to Minho to apologise. So with a clean room, a pat on his back from Hyunjin and one less weight upon his shoulders, he slipped back on his shoes and made his way out the front door, one step closer to another conversation that would change everything.

He just hoped the gaping hole in his heart would come out the other side in a state of repair.

🐿️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayo!!  
So as expected, this chapter was no less angsty than the last, and may have seemed a bit stalling, but I swear Jisung learnt a lot during his outburst, even if my lazy writing didn't portray it.
> 
> Yeah, I did get real slack about halfway into this chapter... Hopefully, it's not too noticeable.
> 
> Anyway, we're nearing the end of this fic. So I just wanted to say a thank you again for all of you that have followed this story so far, and to any new faces that have joined along the way. I apologise again for any sad hearts I may have caused in these last couple of chapters, it was just too easy to write . . .
> 
> I'll see you all again soon! ^-^


	19. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minho is the forehead against yours, a shared breath while you pretend that it’s just you two alone in the world.

Jisung once again found himself standing in front of Minho’s door with a mission in mind. On his ambling walk back to the campus dorms, he had messaged Chan to explain that he was okay and that he wouldn’t make it to the studio that night because there was something more important he had to do, but that he would be able to explain everything in the next day. The acknowledgement to himself that this had to be done didn’t make him any less nervous as he raised his fist to the door, bottom lip caught between his teeth and eyes cast downwards.

He could hear muffled words beyond the thick wood and heavy approaching footsteps, his body tensed in anticipation as the door unlocked and cracked open to reveal Changbin’s dark form.

“Jisung?” Changbin’s voice was taken aback, although he pulled the door open further to let the younger boy in, the reason was obvious enough why he was there.

“Hey,” Jisung offered quietly as he padded into the room, his voice still hoarse from the events of the afternoon,

“He’s brooding on his bed,” Changbin explained as he watched Jisung step over the threshold, noting the red raw skin adorning his face and feeling momentarily bad that he hadn’t even considered the consequences of what happened today for his younger friend.

Once he had made it further into the small alcove that served as an entranceway to the dorm room, Jisung was finally able to see past the kitchenette to the two beds on the far side of the room. Minho was already sitting up on his bed looking Jisung’s way, having heard Changbin greet him in the doorway.

Jisung’s eyes immediately locked onto the obvious pink swelling marring the side of Minho’s cheek, but it was the grim expression on his face that made Jisung’s throat constrict again and his eyes swell with tears. On one hand, he was so relieved to see that Minho was okay, but on the other, he was so afraid of what the elder would say to him for his spinelessness at lunch.

Minho’s face crumpled in defeat, his mind already accepting that it was over. Jisung wasn’t ready and he couldn’t wait any longer, he had been preparing himself for the last four hours, getting ready to cut the intimate ties he and Jisung had found themselves tangled within. Yet still, he could see the pain and longing in Jisung’s eyes, and he just knew the younger would not let it end easy. He knew Jisung would fight for more time. But today had broken his resolve.

He had no time left to give.

“H-Hyung.” The word tumbled off Jisung’s lips with a wave of desperation, getting choked off instantly as a tear passed his defences and slipped down his cheek.

Han flinched when he felt Changbin clamp a hand on his shoulder in a timid understanding, giving a reassuring squeeze as he made his way back into the room. Jisung’s eyes flickered nervously between Minho and his roommate, clearly uneasy with the presence of the latter there. Changbin had yet to pick up on the fact that this visit had more to do than Jisung coming to console Minho for what happened at lunch.

“I-I’m sorry,” Jisung began, but couldn’t continue as his eyes kept turning towards Changbin who was trying not to seem too invested in the conversation,

With a deep breath, Minho turned to Changbin, his roommate had returned to his previous position of sitting on his bed, clearly not realising that he should be relocating himself to anywhere besides the room he was currently in. “Changbin, can you maybe go out for a while?”

The boy perked his head up at being directly addressed, “What? Why? I’m already in my pyjamas.”

“I know,” Minho’s brow furrowed in frustration, he brought the fresh icepack in his hand back up to his cheek, his eye twitching from both the cold and irritation, “But can you for once not be so dense and read the room and see that maybe Jisung would like to speak to me alone.”

It was a little harsh, but there were too many negative emotions pulsing in the room, and Minho let them get the better of him for the second time that day.

Changbin bristled, “Aye, what the hell? I’ve just been trying to help you after what went down today and now, you’re just kicking me out? I’m not even paying attention.”

“Changbin,” Minho’s tone was low and warning,

“No. This is my room as much as yours. I don’t care what he has to say. My presence never bothered you two before.”

“Changbin!” Han’s shout made both of them flinch, the tears in his eyes were momentarily replaced with a hard stare, “I swear to God, can you get out of this room right now?! I am trying to explain to Minho that I am in fucking love with him and I can’t do that with you watching from the side like some sort of gremlin.”

“W-what?” Changbin jumped at that, eyes flying open wide in surprise. Jisung hadn’t raised his voice like that at him in a long time. Not to mention the fact he just said he was in love, _with Minho?!_

The bite in Jisung’s voice instantly dropped away, voice shaking and eyes begging, “Please, Bin. Just give us a moment.”

Changbin scrambled out of his bed, clutching his phone tight to his chest, confusion and shock still stuck on his face, “Uh, yeah, sure.”

The boy scurried to the door, grabbing whatever slippers he could put on the quickest. He glanced back one last time before he left the room, gaze flitting back and forth between Jisung and Minho. Jisung was watching him with gratitude on his face, but Minho’s eyes never left the back of Jisung’s head, his mouth hanging open slightly in disbelief and something unreadable. Before thirty seconds had passed, the door was clicking shut behind Changbin and Jisung’s gaze lingered on it for as long as possible before reluctantly turning to look back at Minho.

Minho gulped visibly, “Sung?”

The younger boy hesitated, leaning towards the bed but stopping himself from running forward and throwing himself into Minho’s arms, “I am so sorry for today. I-I should have said something,” He sniffed loudly, rubbing at his eyes again with the back of his hand, “D-Do you hate me?”

“Sungie,” Minho’s voice was so soft, cracking with emotion, “You know I could never hate you. You mean too much to me.”

“But I just sat there!” Jisung was crying again now, steady tears running down his cheeks again, “All while he said such awful things. I was so scared. Why-” His words faltered as he gasped for breath, another sob wracking his chest, his voice crumbled as he uttered out, “Why couldn’t I go to you?”

Minho’s lip trembled, water pooling behind his eyes too, “It’s okay, Sung. I told you I’d always support your choice. And you’re not ready. I see that. I-I,” He took a deep breath of his own, “I will still be there for you, even if we’re not together. You don’t have to apologise to me.”

Jisung shook his head, more tears spilling out, he hated the sad smile on Minho’s face, he hated that he was the cause for it. “N-no. You don’t get it. I love you, Minho. I am in love with you.”

Minho was biting his lip to stop it from shaking so much, “I know you do. I know. It’s okay.” He blinked rapidly in succession to try and stop his tears, “I’ll be alright. You can let me go- You have to let me go.”

“But I don’t want to,” Jisung protested,

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Minho grimaced, his hand dropped to his lap, crushing the icepack within a tight fist, “I wasn’t expecting it so soon either, but we knew this day was coming.”

“That’s not it.” Jisung stepped further into the room, steeling himself and shaking himself from more tears, “You’re not listening to me.”

“Jisung,” Minho was trying hard to keep his voice stern, “This is it. I promise you won’t lose me forever. But I can’t do this anymore.” He was cracking under the pressure too, his mouth was drawn tight and lips pulled down from the effort of trying to keep himself composed, “Please, don’t fight it.”

“No.” Jisung was staring him down, and beyond his puffy red eyes, his defiance was breaking every wall Minho had tried to use to block him out, “I can’t lose you. It hurts too much.”

“I know it hurts. God, Sungie, I know it hurts too much.” He couldn’t hold Jisung’s gaze, eyes dropping to his lap, “But that’s why. We can’t keep doing this to each other.”

“Minho,” Jisung hurried over to the bed, his determination from earlier back full force. He hopped up and kneeled in front of Minho, the elder tensing at their closeness, his eyes staying locked in his lap. Jisung brought his hand up to Minho’s cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the forming bruise. He carefully tilted Minho’s face up so he couldn’t look away again, “Why is it always so hard for us to just be serious? Why is it like climbing a mountain just trying to talk each other?” Minho’s eyes were flicking about Jisung’s face nervously, unable to keep still while the younger talked, “Please, just listen to me, okay?”

Despite every fibre of his being telling him to fight it, Minho nodded at Jisung’s words.

Jisung was nibbling his lower lip again, he released the tormented skin and took one fast inhale before declaring, “I choose you.”

Jisung tried his best to finish with a reassuring smile, but his face was a mess of tear tracks and snot, his breath still stuttering with every rise and fall of his chest – so it wasn’t very convincing.

But the words rang clear around the room, echoing in Minho’s head.

_I choose you._

“I know it hurts us too much.” Jisung continued to explain when Minho continued to look at him blankly, eyes blinking numbly, “That’s why. This is me choosing you.”

Jisung reached his other hand out, grabbing one of Minho’s clenched fists, prying apart his stiff fingers and pressing their palms together.

“I love you. I love you so much that I finally figured it out. Losing you is so much scarier than anything they might have to say. Losing you is so much scarier than admitting this to you right now, which is pretty fucking terrifying I might add,” Jisung pulled up Minho’s hand and pressed it to his chest, right where his heart was thumping away violently, “I think my heart might give out if you don’t say something soon. Just- Please just-” Jisung searched his eyes for anything, anything that could soothe the panic in his chest, the terror rising with every new second of silence, “Don’t let this end. I am sorry. I am so, so sorry it took so long. Forgive me. Please forgive me. Just, don’t let us end before we’ve even begun.”

Minho blinked at him quietly a few more times, Jisung wasn’t openly sobbing anymore, but tears were still fresh across his face and his body was shuddering with every breath. Minho’s hand pressed to the younger’s heart could still feel it beating away rapidly, Jisung’s hand trembling where it held his wrist in place. Minho closed his eyes, it was . . . too much. He couldn’t look at Jisung’s eyes any longer. He was losing himself to them. He was being sucked into depths of brown, swept up into a burning – aching – sincerity and longing. His heart was racing too, matching the frantic beating of Jisung’s.

It was all too much.

Minho gasped, the breath burning as he sucked in harshly, his throat had closed in fear, making it hard to breathe.

_Too much._

He couldn’t let himself believe it. He couldn’t latch onto more false hope. He couldn’t let himself fall so easily.

But he had already fallen. Three years ago. And he hadn’t stopped falling since.

Every moment with Jisung he fell further and further, and he was not sure he would ever be able to pull himself back up if he hit the bottom.

_Too much_.

Jisung watched in horror as the first tears slipped out of the corner of Minho’s closed eyes, getting caught in his long lashes as he gasped again. Jisung’s heart stuttered. It was too late. Minho had closed him off. Too late.

_Too late_.

If only he’d stood up at lunch. If only. _If only._

With his heart dying in his chest, Jisung swallowed his pride and went to remove his hand still pressed against Minho’s cheek. Selfish. It was conceited of him to come here. He had no right to beg for Minho’s forgiveness.

_Too late. Too late._

_Guilty._

_Coward._

Before he could pull away, something locked over his hand, holding it in place.

_Too much._

Minho couldn’t stop himself. He felt himself leaning into Jisung’s caress. It hurt. The burning in his cheek hadn’t subsided and the force which he slammed his hand on top of Jisung’s had pressed against the bruise.

He hadn’t stopped falling. Not yet. Maybe he could let himself fall a bit longer. But it was all too much. Jisung was too bright to resist.

Minho opened his eyes, more tears spilling over, “I-is it true?”

Jisung was aching. How could they have let it come to this? How could _he_ let it come to this? How could he have hurt the man he loved so badly that he couldn’t believe a word uttered.

Jisung nodded, more of his own tears falling, he wasn’t sure how he had more to give, but they were there, spilling down his cheeks as he watched Minho break completely for the first time.

And it was all his fault.

“Yes.” He cleared his throat, “Yes, Min. I want you. I choose you. I love you.”

Minho closed his eyes again, his hand tightened to a fist on Jisung’s chest, bunching up the shirt’s fabric. Jisung watched his lip tremble again. He watched the tightness in Minho’s chin. He watched the turmoil roll over his features.

“I love you too.”

Then Minho pulled Jisung into his arms, falling back onto the bed with Jisung on top of him. He let the solid, warm weight of Jisung bear down on him. It was comforting. It was suffocating. He buried his face into Jisung’s shoulder and cried.

_Too much_.

_Too bright_.

His hands were splayed over Jisung’s shoulder blades, his arms so tight it was bruising, but Jisung just held Minho tighter in return. Minho let sob after sob wrack his body. He let everything pour out. He was so tired of being in control. He was so tired of being calm. Just once, he wanted to be the one to break.

“I love you. I’m sorry. I love you. I forgive you. I love you.”

Half the words were lost, mumbled into Jisung’s hoodie, but Jisung was able to make out enough of Minho’s ramblings to feel his heart breaking and healing all at once. He tried to lull Minho, rubbing his hands soothingly wherever he could reach. His wasn’t the only one dam that had broken today, and he knew Minho had every right to crack after all that had happened. He didn’t know what this meant for them, but he knew Minho hadn’t left him. Not yet.

Maybe his attempts to pacify the pain in Minho’s heart did nothing, but eventually the sobs died down and Minho’s crushing grip abruptly loosened.

“Well, that was embarrassing.” Minho started sheepishly, voice still strained as he calmed down. He pulled back from Jisung’s shoulder so he could look back at his face, his usual composure back in place, “Sorry about that.”

“Idiot.” Jisung scoffed at him, but helped brushed the hair out of his eyes, knowing they both must have looked like an absolute mess, “Don’t apologise.”

“Sorry,” He said again, then immediately winced at the pointed stare Jisung gave him.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asked tentatively, wiping the last of the tears from Minho’s face, wary of the bruise still prominent on his cheek,

Minho rolled his eyes, “I’m fine. I feel like I should be asking if you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Then we’re both liars.” Minho chortled, “But I meant what I said, I do love you.”

And maybe Jisung wanted to cry one last time when Minho said those words, even with his eyes red and face blotchy. He had just been listening to Minho ramble those exact words into his hoodie for the last ten minutes, but this time they hit differently, and at the onslaught of happiness, Jisung smiled so widely it hurt.

“I’m sorry I made you wait.” Minho said, apologising again, with his own smile teasing at the corner of his lips as he looked at the unbridled joy on Jisung’s face at his confession.

“No. I’m sorry for making you wait,” Jisung rebutted, “I meant everything. I want to be with you. I’m ready. I _am_ ready.”

Minho chuckled quietly, it was still laced with the aftereffects of crying, but the sound still echoed in Jisung’s heart, “I believe you. I trust you. Just-” Minho rested his head back on the bed, rearranging Jisung in his arms as a deep sigh left his lips, “Just lay with me for a bit longer. This is just a lot to process.”

“I know.” Jisung giggled himself, and settled against Minho’s chest, pressing himself tight to that familiar body heat. One of his hands found Minho’s, linking their fingers and just rubbing soothing patterns on the back of his hand as they let the emotions that had been raging away in their chests die down until all the fear and longing and panic had ebbed away.

“Sung,” Minho called after another short while,

“Hmm?” The younger leant up to give him all his attention,

Minho grabbed Jisung’s face sharply, pressing on his cheeks just a bit too forcefully that Jisung was sure he looked like a pufferfish, his lips all pouty and smooshed. He was looking at Jisung’s eyes intently, not a dash of insecurity present in his gaze, “I love you.”

Red blossomed across Jisung’s face, “What? W-why?” He stumbled over the question, the words only slightly distorted from the pressure of Minho’s hands,

Minho smiled brightly, “Just because I can now.”

Then he didn’t even give Jisung a chance to respond before he swooped in for a kiss, on Jisung’s pufferfish lips and all.

And it was just as sweet and just as loving as Jisung imagined it would be.

Jisung’s hands found their way onto Minho’s chest, grabbing handfuls of fabric as he let himself go into the kiss. Minho melted just the same, one hand sliding into Han’s hair and the other to his neck, tilting his head and helping guide their – slightly frantic – mouths as they melded together.

Breaking away just enough so he could speak, Jisung whispered against Minho’s lips, “Is this really it? Was it really that easy?”

Minho barked out a laugh, releasing Jisung to fall back again, “I wouldn’t call anything about today _easy_.”

“I know,” Jisung huffed, settling on his elbows on Minho’s chest, “It’s just, it feels so dumb. All this time and trouble and it’s _okay_ just like that.”

“I mean, it’s not the end of it. We still have to let the others know.”

Jisung hummed, a lingering peppering of fear dancing in his mind, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“We can do that later though. Honestly, I just want to lay here and hold you all night,” Minho admitted, “But it’s been like two hours and we really should let Changbin back in.”

Jisung whined, but nodded in agreement, “Can we wait for just another minute though? My limbs are fucking jelly after all that.”

Minho chuckled but relented and pulled Jisung tighter up onto his chest. He moved his hands to the sides of Jisung’s neck, just gently supporting him while he grazed his lips lightly against Jisung’s before resting their heads together. Jisung couldn’t help the timid smile overtaking his features, just here in Minho’s bed, on Minho’s chest, he could pretend again that it was just them alone in the world.

“Do you reckon we can do it?” Jisung whispered, trying to contain his uncertainty, but he had to ask, his breath fanning over Minho’s lips,

The elder hummed, “What’s that, Sungie?”

“Do you think we’ll be okay? That we can do this? Being, like, _together_ together?”

Minho snorted, “That’s sort of always been up to you,” He pressed forward, rubbing his nose with Jisung’s, “But yeah, I think we’ll be okay.”

All timidness gone, Jisung’s blinding smile broke through, and he pushed against Minho’s lips again, “God, I love you so much.” He muttered between kisses, “I wish you had this room to yourself.”

Minho’s hands ran down Jisung’s back until they reached the small of his back, pressing him closer as he kissed him back, groaning out, “I wish so too.”

Then a thought came to Jisung’s mind, and he pulled back with a grin on his face, “Come home with me instead.”

“Huh?”

“Come home with me,” Jisung repeated, “I came here so things could change between us. No more sneaking around. No more secrets. Come home with me and stay in my room, my _single _room. With a door.” Jisung emphasised the last part with enough indication as to why,

Minho looked at him seriously, “Are you sure you’re okay with that? Did you want to tell Hyunjin and Yeosang already?”

Jisung looked away shyly, “Hyunjin might already know about us. I may have talked to him before coming here.”

“Ah,”

“Yeah, and I’d say Changbin knows too now.”

“Yeah,” Minho chuckled, “No way he couldn't figure it out. Even if it is Changbin. Did you- Did you want to tell the others now too?”

Jisung hummed, still feeling a little apprehension at the thought, “Tomorrow. For tonight. I just want to be with you.”

“Okay.” Minho nodded, sitting up in bed, pulling Jisung with him, “Let me get a bag then. Err,” He scratched the back of his neck nervously, “Did you want to message Changbin to say he can come back without us biting off his head?”

Jisung grimaced, still feeling bad about the way he’d shooed him of, “Um, sure.”

Within five minutes, Minho and Jisung were standing at the doorway to the room, a bag slung over Minho’s shoulder and a nervous smile on both their faces. Pulling the door closed behind them, Minho looked at Jisung and offered a shy hand, Jisung gave him a sweet smile and accepted the hand, pulling him down the hall.

They passed Changbin at the elevator, the man’s eyes immediately locking onto their linked hands with a new wariness on his face as he stepped out into the hall on their floor.

“I’m staying at Sungie’s tonight,” Minho explained as he passed his roommate and dragged Jisung into the elevator with him, no other explanation given as the doors shut in front of them.

“Smooth,” Jisung laughed, receiving a punch in return,

“Like you were any better.”

Jisung shrugged, “I’m still in disbelief that this is happening right now,”

“Yeah, me too,” Minho admitted as the doors slid back open on the ground floor and he pulled Jisung towards the carpark.

The journey to Jisung’s house wasn’t as awkward as both feared it would be. Instead, Jisung found himself staring at Minho as he drove, eyes fond and undoubtedly disgustingly soft, but he couldn’t find it in himself to look away as Minho hummed along to whatever pop song was on the radio. Occasionally his eyes would drift over to Jisung and the blush that adorned his cheeks, and the dazzling smile on his face, just made it that much harder for Jisung to look away.

They felt like naughty teenagers as they snuck up the front steps to the house, a wave of giddiness filling them. Jisung had to shush Minho as he kept giggling at everything Jisung would say. Maybe they had lost their minds a little after everything that had happened in that one day, but they had certainly earnt the freedom to just be silly and let loose a little.

Once they were inside, Hyunjin’s voice called out from the lounge room at the sound of the front door, “Hannie? Is that you?”

Jisung rounded the corner to where his housemate was sitting, smiling and greeting both of them as he saw both Hyunjin and Yeosang sitting on the couch.

“Well, what happened?” Hyunjin exclaimed, sitting up eagerly,

Before Jisung could answer Minho popped around the corner too, stepping up to Jisung and resting a comforting hand on his waist.

“Hey, Hyunjin,” Minho nodded politely in his direction, before turning to the other housemate and doing the same, “Yeosang.”

“Hi,” Both boys nodded back, mouths falling open in disbelief,

“Um, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Jisung explained, “It’s been a long day so we’re just going to chill out in my room.”

“Yeah. Totally. Do that.” Hyunjin’s gaze was still flicking between the two, definitely reading into how they were pressed together, “If you want some food there’s a bit of left-over chicken in the kitchen.”

“Thanks, but we grabbed some stuff on the way here.” Minho lifted the convenience store bag he was holding.

Then with a gentle shove, Minho pushed Jisung into his room and closed the door behind them.

“See? That wasn’t so bad?”

“Yeah.” Jisung agreed but was still breathing a little elevated. Minho just kept rubbing the hand on the small of his back in small circles to soothe the slight anxiety.

“Come on, let’s eat.”

So, they did. And it was . . . normal.

Jisung found himself settling in completely to the familiarity of it all. He found himself laughing at Minho’s jokes and he was cracking his own. Whatever drama they had playing on Jisung’s laptop creating background noise as they simply enjoyed the experience of being with each other. Everything still seemed the same even though Jisung _knew_ it was different now.

After they had finished eating, they realised how late it was and took turns to excuse themselves to wash up and get changed ready for bed. Neither of the housemates said anything as they watched both boys venture between the bathroom and Jisung’s bedroom, giving them their obviously much-needed space right then, although Hyunjin may have given Jisung a knowing smirk that the younger purposefully ignored.

Once they were settled together onto Jisung’s bed, a new burden settled onto Jisung’s shoulders. He knew he was the one who suggested they come to his place for the privacy, but the thought of doing something with Minho now – now that his housemates were out there _knowing_ and _assuming_ what they were doing – he found himself frozen under the expectation to perform.

Sensing something was off, Minho splayed himself over Jisung’s chest, running fingers through his hair, “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I am happy just with you in my arms all night.”

“No, it’s okay. I want to.”

Minho gave him a doubting look, “Sungie, I’m not going to sleep with you when your heart’s not in it. And I can see it’s not.”

“Yeah,” Jisung sounded bashful, “Still a little nervous I guess.”

“That’s okay. It was a big day for both of us. Everyone finally realised I was gay. You decided to come out. _And I punched someone_.” Minho said incredulously, shivering again at thought of what went down, “It has been a weird day for both of us.”

“It really has been, hasn’t it?” Jisung sighed thoughtfully, then he looked up towards Minho, eyes wide and pleading, “Can we still kiss a little though?”

Minho laughed at the needy edge to Jisung’s voice, moving up so he was hovering completely over the younger man, “Of course.”

And really, Jisung should have known better. A kiss for them never ended with just a kiss.

. . .

“You sure you want this right now?” Minho asked for the third time, pulling out his fingers that had been slowly working Jisung open,

“Babe,” Jisung huffed, working hard to keep his voice controlled and his volume low, “If I wasn’t sure, I would have told you when you asked before sucking my dick,” He nudged Minho’s arm away, pushing the elder onto his back and climbing up until he was straddling him, “Or when you asked before I sucked your dick. Now,” He quickly leant over and grabbed a condom, ripping the packet open and slipping the rubber out, waving it pointedly in Minho’s face, “Can you just shut up and kiss me while I do this? After today, I want you to just lie back and enjoy.”

Minho smirked, raising his hands in surrender, “Okay,”

“Good.”

Jisung stooped down so he could take Minho’s mouth in a wet, heated kiss. He let the elder bite at his lower lip before sucking on his tongue, pulling it into the desperately waiting mouth to slide against his own. The odd taste of Minho’s cinnamon toothpaste still lingered on his palate, sending a tingle down Jisung’s spine, despite the countless minutes already spent tasting and marking up each other. Jisung knew he had a dark bruise forming on his collarbone, right next the mole there, but Minho was worse off, a scattering of pink bites across the upper half of his chest.

All while never breaking the kiss that was more tongue than anything else, Jisung’s hands were reaching back blindly. He rolled the condom onto Minho before patting around on the bed beside them for the lube, rubbing that onto his shaft as well before sitting up straight, raising his hips and shuffling back a little to get into position.

Minho was watching him with dark eyes, gaze flicking between the furrowed brow and look of concentration on Han’s face, to where his dick was now pressing lightly into Han’s entrance. His hands were rubbing soothingly up and down’s Jisung’s thighs where his legs were folded, tight against Minho’s waist, revelling at how the smooth, tan skin was burning under his touch.

“Ahh,” Han let out a low and needy moan as he sunk down on Minho, one hand braced on his chest and the other helping line him up. Jisung took a minute, as always, to adjust to the pressure threatening to split him in half.

_Fuck_.

The profanity that slipped from Minho’s mouth was matched in Jisung’s head.

While Jisung was perched there with his mouth agape, taking deep breaths as he slowly worked Minho deeper and deeper into him, the elder let his hands run up and down Jisung’s chest. His thumbs stopped to press gentle circles around Jisung’s nipples, causing Han’s breath to stutter and his body to sink further onto Minho.

Jisung loved this part, when every sense and nerve was clouded so entirely with the thought and feel of Minho. As their bodies slowly moulded together so intimately, so sincerely, that the devotion between them spiralled beyond limit, until Jisung was sure every part of them, mind, body and soul were so intertwined that they would never be able to part.

Then, once Minho was all the way in, and Jisung had re-braced himself, leaning back just a little as he supported himself with his hands on top of the dancer’s thighs behind him, he would, experimentally, give a little roll of his hips, trying to gauge how his body was taking Minho. The simultaneous moans from the both of them, and the rush of endorphins flooding down his spine, promised of much more to come. So, he rocked his hips forward again, not pulling off Minho yet, just thrusting what was already inside of him deeper as his body still adjusted to the stretch.

Without warning, Jisung pushed up higher on his thighs and let himself drop down, a satisfied sigh leaving his mouth.

Truly, Jisung loved riding Minho.

He loved that gravity helped him impale himself on Minho over and over, deeper, and deeper.

He loved the rough groans he could elicit when he rolled his hips in slow circles, Minho’s fingers settling and tightening on his hips in response, showing just how much the little movements affected him.

He loved when he angled his hips just right, so that his cock slid over Minho’s stomach with every thrust, the tense abdominals rubbing against his sensitive underside with just enough teasing to drive him crazy, all while Minho was brushing consistently against his prostate on the inside.

He loved when the burning in his thighs became too much, body shaking with effort and Minho took control instead, telling him to lift his knees up and brace himself, letting Minho grab his thighs tight and gasp at the feel of the elder snapping up into him at a harsh and rapid pace until they both had to slow down just to breathe.

He loved when Minho wrapped a hand over his dick so that he was thrusting into Minho’s grip with every forward roll of his hips, hips that were still maddeningly working on driving himself onto the elder’s cock.

“Min, stop.” Han gasped, his hand snapping down and grabbing Minho’s wrist, pulling it away from his dick that was twitching and dripping under his touch. He huffed out an exasperated laugh, shaking from the building sensitivity, “I’m going to come too soon if you keep doing that.”

“Already?” Minho smirked at him, but moved his hand anyway, resting it back on Jisung’s hips again to help guide him as he lost his rhythm while losing his mind.

“Kiss me?” Jisung posed instead, biting on his lower lip as he was still working hard to keep his whimpers under control, the knowledge that they weren’t alone in the house just barely there in the back of his mind.

“Okay. Hold onto me for a sec.” Minho pulled Jisung forward, draping the younger’s arms around his shoulders while he wrapped his behind Jisung’s lower back, careful that Han wouldn’t fall off as he sat up. Jisung’s legs naturally came around to lock behind the dancer’s back as he settled himself into the new position in Minho’s lap.

Jisung hesitantly rolled his hips again and whined, tightening his arms around Minho’s neck as he now found his dick pressed between their bodies, Minho having brought their chests together.

“Better?” Minho whispered into Jisung’s neck as he started pressing kisses into the sensitive skin, working his way up to his jaw before finally landing on Han’s lips.

Jisung broke the kiss and huffed out another laugh, the pooling in his stomach just a prominent as before, he was still bordering the edge of ecstasy. This position had him seated with Minho’s dick snug against his prostate, “Feels like I’m going crazy,” He admitted, keeping the rolling of his hips as tiny circles to stop himself from losing it too soon.

“You feel so good tonight, Sung. Your body makes me crazy too.”

“Min,” He drawled the name. Minho’s compliments, panted into his ear, were not helping the fire in the stomach. He was sure his nails had sunk into the skin of the elder’s shoulder, but he was losing grip on reality and had to anchor himself somewhere, trying to concentrate on something else before he exploded, “Wanna mark you.”

“Hmmm?” Minho hummed, he released the dangly earring in Jisung’s ear that he had been pulling with his teeth, his hands now more forcefully pulling on Jisung’s hips, making the younger fuck himself onto him harder, “The bites and scratches down my chest aren’t enough?”

Han slipped a hand into Minho’s hair and pulled his head back to extend his neck a bit roughly, a moment of dominance creeping out, “I want to mark your neck, want people to know you’re mine.”

Minho shuddered, he really liked that idea, he wanted people to know he was taken. He swallowed harshly and tilted his head back further, offering his skin to Jisung, “O-okay.”

Jisung latched onto his neck, biting a bit harder than necessary, before sucking deeply onto the skin. He was a little overstimulated at that moment, his hips still rocking wildly onto Minho’s, making him brash and impatient. But God, the way Minho responded, the moan vibrating through his body so that Jisung could feel it in his own chest was addictive.

Satisfied with the blooming pink mark on the dancer’s neck, Jisung released the tight grip in his hair and pulled back, observing Minho’s closely. “My one looks much sexier,” He pointed out, appreciating his work once more before leaning forward to place a light kiss on the other prominent bruise, the now darkened mark over Minho’s cheek, a sad reminder of the events of the day.

Minho blinked up at Han, eyes laden with affection and desire. The younger man’s hair was just starting to stick to his forehead with sweat, the perspiration making his tan skin shine faintly in the lamplight. His mouth was bitten red, alternating between his tongue poking out in concentration as he rocked his hips and quickly biting down on his lip to stifle a moan when he hit his mark, Minho striking deeply within him. The rolling movement of Han’s body had his abdominals repeatedly contracting and relaxing, the sight had Minho licking his lips, as well as his hungry eyes noting the mess Jisung was already leaking between their stomachs. “Ah, _shit_,” He groaned, eyes fluttering shut as the sight overwhelmed him, “You look so hot right now.”

Jisung grinned, but the cocky smile was knocked from sight, his face pinching in delight when Minho finally started to thrust up again – having let Jisung have his fun, he was ready to chase both their orgasms. He felt Minho’s lips on his neck but pulled away instead, “Lay down- ah- Touch me- ah-” His words were punctuated with a moan every time Minho drove his body up. “Mark me- ah- ‘nother time.”

“Needy,” Minho jeered but supported Jisung as he fell back towards the bed again, fumbling with the lube before his hand was again wrapping around Jisung’s dick. There was something about the sight, laid back on the bed with Jisung bouncing on his lap, that made Minho’s body prickle and burn, feeling weightless and carefree and so very much in love. He would never dull to the feeling of Jisung’s hand on his body, everywhere they touched sending jolts of electricity through him.

With newfound momentum and no hesitation, Jisung started moving faster, chasing his high as quick as possible. He was pretty sure there would be Han-sized handprints on Minho’s thighs after the way he was gripping them.

In no time, Han was spilling into Minho’s hand and up onto his chest. His body tensed up as the euphoria flooded him, his usual lengthy moan soft and clipped as he fought to contain his volume, resulting in uncontrollable shudders engulfing his spent body. He hunched forward after the release, hands now supporting himself on Minho’s chest as the last of the aftershocks made him twitch, his chest heaving as he recovered from the orgasm.

“You’re so pretty, babe. You did so well for me.” Minho reached up with his clean hand and moved the shaggy hair that had fallen into Han’s eyes aside, giving him a few moments to catch his breath before asking, “Can you lean back a little now? I’m gonna come while facing you.”

Han nodded slowly, letting Minho help him onto the balls of his feet, knees bent as he leant back and braced himself on his arms, only wincing slightly from the continual sensations assaulting him. Minho quickly grabbed a tissue to wipe Han’s release from his hand before taking up a similar position, casually leant back on his arms with his knees bent under Jisung’s. At this angle, it was easy to watch himself disappear into Jisung as he started rolling his hips again. He didn’t wait around this time, quickly building up a satisfying speed as he repeatedly snapped his hips forwards.

Jisung’s eyes were shut with the exhaustion setting in after his orgasm, and his arms shook as they supported his weight, threatening to drop him to the bed. A muted, continual hum still fell from his lips as he felt Minho plunging into him deeply, brushing nerves that still made his body tremble. Cracking an eye open, he was welcomed to the sight of a very flushed looking Minho, biting his lip to keep himself quiet as he was quickly working himself to completion. Han’s gaze drifted from the long eyelashes framing Minho’s heavy-lidded eyes, back down to the dark mark blemishing his neck, another wave of pride filling him at the sight.

“I’m close,” Minho whispered, voice strained, “Where should I come?”

His voice cracked, but Han was able to cry out, “Over my body.”

The elder nodded, rutting his hips into Jisung’s a couple more times before rapidly pulling out, he ripped the condom off and pumped himself twice before he was painting Jisung’s stomach and chest, mixing with the mess already there.

After a minute, Minho’s ragged breaths died down and he was able to speak again, “I love you. So much.” He confessed for the umpteenth time that day.

Jisung laughed, eyes crinkling as he smiled his beautiful heart-shaped smile through the fatigue, “I love you too.”

And no one could deny the truth behind their twin declarations.

. . .

“Hey,” Jisung started, back pressed to Minho’s chest and mind nowhere near as spent as his body, his endless thoughts refusing to let him sleep just yet, “This has been bothering me for a while, but why did you wait so long to tell me you were gay?”

Minho let out a long sigh, the huff of warm air tickling the hair on the back of Jisung’s neck. He was clearly not excited to be brought back from the edge of slumber by the ramblings of the younger’s mind.

“I was scared.” He answered eventually, “I was terrified you’d leave me, and I was so hooked on you way back then that I thought it might kill me if you rejected me. So, I kept it quiet to be selfish and keep you with me as long as possible.”

“That’s stupid. I would have never left you.”

“I know that now,” Minho whined, tightening the arm and leg that was thrown over Jisung, “But I was young and dumb back then.”

Han snorted, “Compared to what? Now? You’re still just as dumb, old man.”

“Hey,” Minho scowled and nipped Jisung’s nape, making him yelp and jolt forward, before snorting to himself, “At least I didn’t throw an _open_ can of soda at you and then try to drink my phone.”

“It was _one _time!” Jisung squealed, thrashing feebly in his arms, “But fine. I get it. We’ve once again established we’re both idiots.”

“You’re my idiot though,” Minho said warmly, patting his hand that was resting on Jisung’s stomach,

Jisung purred at the affection and sank back down,

“Even if it means I have to wear a can of Schweppes every now and then,”

“Aye!” Han harrumphed, “It wasn’t _that_ bad.”

“Babe, I smelt like raspberry for five hours.”

Jisung was going to defend himself some more but was cut off instead, Minho having already moved conversations.

“You know, Chan was telling me for ages to come out to you. I think a part of him knew that I liked you. He is honestly the smartest dumb person I know, and that sort of scares me.”

Jisung thought back to the brief moment with Chan in the bathroom earlier that day, “Yeah, I can definitely see that. He knows way too much.”

“And when paired with Woojin, it’s terrifying.”

Jisung shivered at the notion. Subsequently his thoughts drifted further while thinking about their eldest friend, “Do you reckon we’ll be able to find work as easy as Woojin?”

“I think so,” Minho said truthfully, “I’ve already got some applications pending at a few companies.”

“Really?” Jisung said in disbelief, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d been applying?”

Minho shrugged, “I don’t know. Didn’t want to jinx it. Not until I have something concrete.”

“Yeah, but, what about me?”

“Huh?”

Jisung could feel his cheeks growing warm, “Shouldn’t I be looking for work near you? You know, to make travel easy and so we can, you know . . .”

Minho blinked slowly, trying to process what Jisung was struggling to imply, “Oh,” He whispered in surprise, “I didn’t realise that’s what you wanted. You want to move in with me?”

“I don’t know,” It was Jisung’s turn to shrug, he was definitely blushing thinking about Minho’s upfront question, “I’m still new at all this. But it’ll be the next big step for us anyway. So, it’ll be easier if we work in the same city.”

Minho thought about it. He liked the idea of living somewhere with Jisung. They practically inhabited each other’s rooms as it was. But until this afternoon, he didn’t even know if there was a future with him. And there was something else that stopped him screaming out how much he liked the idea.

“That’s true.” Minho commented, “But I don’t want you to pick somewhere to work based on where I end up. You always knew I wanted to leave this town, but you haven’t ever said where you wanted to go. So, I think you should just apply where you actually want to work, and we’ll figure it out after.”

Jisung nodded in thought, he did have a few ideas of where he wanted to go.

“Besides,” Minho continued, “We have a few more baby steps to get over first, like telling everyone about us.”

Han tensed in his hold, making Minho uneasy, “I may have already told a few of them that I’ll explain everything at lunch tomorrow,” Jisung mumbled nervously, “If you’re okay with that?”

“Of course,” Minho gave Jisung a tight squeeze, his momentary worry immediately washed away, “I’ll be with you the whole time. And I can’t wait to be unbearably affectionate in Changbin’s face.”

“You’re such an asshole, but if it means I get kisses, I guess I’ll allow it.”

Minho pecked Han on the back of the neck, “You’re going to get all the kisses.”

Jisung smiled smugly, “I like the sound of that, but-” He rolled around in Minho’s arms so he could look up at him, doubt creeping up again, “What if we do end up hours away from each other? What will you do without me?”

“Then we make sure our days off line up, and we facetime every day,” Minho rationalised,

“Will that be enough though?”

The elder smiled tenderly at him, “Any moment with you is enough.” He finished his sentence by smacking a big smooch on either side of Jisung’s cheeks.

“Ew,” Jisung wailed, scrunching up his nose, “That’s so tacky.”

“You love it though,”

Jisung couldn’t hide his smile for long, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards, “I do.”

“I’m serious though,” Minho yawned, eyes briefly closing as he fought off sleep, “I think we’ve already worked through so much together, what’s another hurdle?”

Jisung nibbled on his lower lip absentmindedly, thoughts caught up on all the what-ifs. Minho reached up and cupped his cheek, running his thumb over it softly. Han’s eyes flicked up again, and Minho could see the uncertainty in his wide brown eyes.

“Even if we end up across the country, I think we can do it because you mean too much to me to not try whatever it takes to make it work,” Minho said earnestly, “Do you think differently?”

“No.” Jisung shook his head immediately, “With you, I think I can do anything.”

“Now, you’re being cheesy.”

“Shut up.” Han rolled his eyes, “And see! I was right, I told you we can’t have serious conversations!”

Minho chuckled, “I’m sorry, please continue, I’ll be quiet. You know I’m an old man now, I’m supposed to be asleep by ten and it’s after twelve. The sleep deprivation is setting in.”

“God, you’re insufferable.”

“It’s part of my charm.” Minho winked – with both eyes.

Jisung laughed and rolled his eyes again but sobered up quickly looking at the fondness clear on Minho’s face. He thought how it was a good a time as any to properly appreciate the elder for all he’d done.

Glancing away, his fingers playing nervously with the strings of his shorts, Jisung started quietly, “For a long time, I was feeling so lost. Being with you made it better. But that feeling never really went away. Not until today,” Jisung looked at him bashfully. “Today was the first time I stopped feeling so aimless. I don’t think you realise what you did by accepting me, all of me, but you helped me finally accept myself. I just wanted to thank you.”

Minho’s face lit up like the sun and the awkward weight on Han’s heart lifted, “Thank you, Sungie. For accepting me too. You just . . . You make me a better person too.” He gave Jisung a quick peck, too tired to form the proper words to explain just how much he was endeared to Jisung as well. Instead, he pressed their foreheads together while his thumb kept running soothing circles on Jisung’s cheek, just letting him know he was there, with all his support.

Jisung could feel it, all the love and support between them. Overwhelming him time and time again. He didn’t think he’d get ever used to the feeling. There was no place he’d rather be than by Minho’s side.

After a long moment, Minho pulled back with another yawn, “Now, if there’s nothing else you need to get off your chest, can I sleep now?”

Jisung chuckled but shook his head, and nuzzled down into the crook of Minho’s neck, “You can sleep. Goodnight, Min. Love you.”

Minho kissed the top of Jisung’s head, wrapping his arms back around Jisung’s waist, resting his nose in the mop and hair and letting the familiar scent ease him into sleep, “Love you too.”

And for once, Jisung believed wholeheartedly that Minho was right. Together they _could_ tackle anything. They had already been through so much, and it had shown him how resilient, how strong, they were as a team.

Jisung had finally figured everything out.

That emptiness and how to fill it. Who he was. How lost he’d been.

All of it.

Minho had come into his life and showed him what living truly meant, and there was no longer any going back.

And with that, Jisung knew just what Minho meant to him.

You see.

To Jisung, Minho was more than a piece of him.

Minho was his soul.

(\\__/)  
(='.'=)  
(")_(")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. It’s done.
> 
> I hate endings.
> 
> They always make me sad, no matter how well-done they are, they always leave me with an emptiness. This was no different.
> 
> So, I found it really hard trying to finish this because I didn’t want to disappoint you all, which just added to my usual insecurity, especially because – holy fuck – Lost Boys reached over 200 kudos guys – love you all <3 <3 – but that just makes this terrifying because I built myself up so much pressure to make this perfect for you all and that is just impossible. I’ve known from day one what was going to happen in this story from start to finish but I felt you guys deserved a proper fleshing out as time went on which meant so much second-guessing everything. After all the well-wishes I just thought you guys earnt a decent ending, so I hope I lived up to at least some of the expectations. Even now, I debated breaking this up into two chapters because the pacing still irks me. So, eh. Enjoyed??
> 
> Anyway, just, thank you so much to everyone that has given kudos and comments and suffered through the madness of this with me. I will be going back over this and cleaning up the chapters at some point. But for now, I still can’t really believe it’s done ^-^
> 
> Am I saying I’ll never touch this pairing again? Nope. Because I may have a word doc with 5k of scribbles of what I want for this couple to encounter still…. But am I making promises on when/if those drabbles will become a full-fledged sequel? No. My heart is currently devoted to another minsung fic (why I’ve been so slack with this one). So, if you wanna see me do something completely different again, look forward to a monster of a minsung supernatural au I’ve got in the works (I may tease some of that before I finish writing it….)
> 
> So, for the final time on Lost Boys, thank you!!!! <3


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